(LIGRARY 


SAii 


§Ke  bear  proceeded  to  uWk  across  (he pond 


THE  MOON  PRINCE 

AND 

OTHER  NABOBS 


BY 

RICHARD  KENDALL  MUNKITTRICK 

AUTHOR  OK  "FARMING" 


WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS 


NEW    YORK 

HARPER   &    BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS 
1893 


Copyright,  1892,  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS 

All  riyhtt  rturrtd. 


TO 

MALCOLM  TURNER  MUNKITTRICK 

MY  ONLY  SON 

Dear  Sir, — 1  thank  you  for  granting  me  permission  to  dedicate  this 
little  book  to  you,  which  I  now  do  as  a  alight  but  most  sincere  testimonial 
of  my  admiration  and  respect.  I  trust  that  this  well-meant  act  of  mine 
may  not  disturb  the  serenity  of  our  relations,  but  that  they  may  continue 
to  be  as  pleasant  in  the  future  as  during  that  portion  of  the  past  which  is 
covered  by  the  six  years  that  have  elapsed  since  the  date  of  your  conquest  of 
and  triumphal  entry  into  the  State  of  A'eio  Jersey.  I  have  the  honor  to 
remain  now  as  always  your  dutiful  parent  and  obedient  slave, 

R.   K.   MU.NKITTRICK 
Mud  Knob,  Summit,  N.  J. 
October  1,  1892 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

THE   MOON  PRINCE 3 

A  DAT  IN  WAXLAND 167 

THE  HURRISHOFFER .-333 

OPOPONAX  % 275 


ILLUSTKATIONS 


PAGE 
"  THE  BEAR  PROCEEDED  TO  WALK  ACROSS  THE  POND  "  .       Frontispiece 

"AND  WHO  ARE  YOU,  PRAY?" 5 

THE  INCANDESCENT  COACHMAN 7 

"  CAPERED  THREE  OR  FOUR  TIMES  AROUND  THE  PUMPKIN  "  .     .  9 

THK  SQUIRREL  RECITES  A  REMINISCENT  POEM 15 

"UNPOKER    ME    NOT    TILL    I'M    COLD" 17 

THE    OWL    GAZING    IN    AT   THE    ORIEL 21 

"  HE  WHIPPED  A   BOTTLE    OF  HAIR-CURLING   FLUID    FROM    UNDER 

HIS    WING  " 25 

"  THE  MOONLIT  EARTH  WHIRLING  AROUND  IN  INKINKSS  "     .     .  29 

"  THE  HIGGLEDE-PIGGIDDY  AND  THE  SENSITIVE  BARABOO  "  .     .  33 

"  '  WHY  DON'T  YOU  GO  AHEAD  ?'  ASKED  THE  OWL  "  ....  35 

KLOWERBELL'S  RETURN 41 

THE  LIBRARIAN 44 

KING  SILVERSMITH  AS  A  RABBIT 48 

"ALL  THE  CABBAGES  RAISED  THEIR  HATS  POLITELY"    ...  53 

PORK  AND  BEANS 58 

THE  ROASTED  PIG  AND  HIS  WISH-HORSE 61 

TUMPTY  TUM  THE  RHYMER 62 

THE  JUMPING  CHECKERS 67 

THE  HUMMING-TOPS,  HUMMING 70 

'"l  AM  NOT  MUCH  OF  A  MORALIST,'  MURMURED  THE  ROASTFD 

PIG" 73 

ONE  OF  THE  ELEPHANTS  KICKED  HIS  HIND  WHEELS  IN  THE  AIR  75 

"THE  ROASTED  PIG  MADE  A  MOST  POLITE  AND  DIPLOMATIC  BOW  "  81 


X  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

THK  PHILOSOPHIC  FARMER 84 

THK  FUNNY  MANIKIN 86 

THK  FRENCH  POODLE 89 

SILVERSMITH  THE  TENTH  ENJOYING  HIMSELF 95 

"SUDDENLY  THE  OWL  APPEARED" 99 

GRANDMOTHER  OF  PEARL 107 

KING  SILVERSMITH'S  FEAST 109 

THE  SORGHUM  AND  THE  TANTAMOUNT 117 

THE  MANIKIN-MENDER  PUTS  ON  THE  DANCE  KETTLE  ....  129 
"THEY  DANCED  UNTIL  THE  WATER  WAS  BOILED  AWAY  AND  THE 

MUSIC  STOPPED" 131 

THE  TANTAMOUNT  AND  R.  L.  SMITH  .  139 

* 

FLOCK  OF  WELSH  RABBITS 145 

"HE  LIFTED  THE  GREAT  WHITE  BIRD  IN  HIS  PAWS "     .     .     .  148 

"THE  PERFORATED  CAT  BOWED  POLITELY" 155 

THE  OWL  WEEPS  AT  JOHNNY'S  DEPARTURE 159 

"THEY  ALL  DANCED  ON  THE  SHORES  OF  THE  LAND  OF  GREEN 

CHEESE" 161 

"THEY  ENTERED,  AND  THK  DOOR  CLOSED  BEHIND  THEM"  .  .175 
"ONE  OF  THE  WAX-WORKERS  HAD  GOT  OVERHEATED"  .  .  .  187 

"  AN  ELEPHANT  WAS  RIGHT  ON  HIS  TRACK " 203 

"A  FAIR  LITHE  SPIRIT  IN  PEARLY  ROBES  ALIGHTED"  .  .  .  215 
"THEY  SAW  THE  KING  RUNNING  AS  FAST  AS  HE  COULD"  .  .  227 
"  HE  TOOK  HOLD  OF  THE  BRANCHES  AND  PEERED  THROUGH  "  .  235 

"HK    STEPPED   ASHORE,  AND   PULLED  THE   CANOE   UP   AFTER 

HIM" 239 

"'l  AM  THE  HURRISHOFFER,'  REPLIED  THE  STRANGE  ANIMAL"  .  243 
"  PENNY-A- WORDSWORTH  DREW  HIMSELF  UP  PROUDLY"  .  .  .  249 
TOMMY  AND  THE  HURRISHOFFER  AT  THE  PLUM-PUDDING  TREE  .  253 

THE  CANDY  ANIMALS  EXERCISING 257 

"'AND  HE  MAKES  cs  ROAR  TILL  WE  BREAK  IN  HALF  WHEN  HE 

SPINS    HIS    HAT   ON   HIS    TAIL '  " 263 

TOMMY    AND    THE    POOH-POOH 269 

OPOPONAX    #       .       ,  .    275 


ILLUSTRATIONS  XI 

PAGE 

"IN  HIS  RETINUE  HE  HAD  TWO  JESTERS ON  APPROVAL1'  .     .  276 

'"CONSIDER  YOUR  SALARY  REDUCED  50  PER  CENT.!'  BROKE  IN 

THE  KING,  WITH  GUEAT  FEELING" 279 

"  THE  FIRST  JESTER  PULLED  THE  STRING,  AND  OPOPONAX  MADE 

A  VIOLENT  EFFORT  TO  LACGH " 286 

"  '  IS  THAT  MAN  TEACHING  THE  PIG  TO  LAUGH,  AS  I  AM  BEING 

TAUGHT,  AND  IS  THE  PIG'S  LAUGH  A  SUCCESS  ?'  "  .  .  .  289 

TIMOTHY  HAY'S  cow 294 

"HEItE  THE  LAUGHING  FARMER  SUDDENLY  LOST  CONTROL  OF 
HIMSELF,  AND  LAUGHED  SO  HARD  AND  WELL  THAT  THE 
KING  TRIED  TO  JOIN  IN" 295 

"THE  KING  RODE  AROUND,  WAVING  AN  ORANGE  -  COLORED 

POSTER" 300 

"  WHEN  THEY  STOOD  UP  THE  FARMER'S  HEAD  WAS  ON  THE 
KING'S  SHOULDERS,  AND  THE  KING'S  WAS  ON  THE  FARM- 
ER'S "  301 

"  '  MERCY  SAKES !'  BROKE  IN  TIMOTHY  IIAY'g  OLD  MOTHER ; 

'  WHAT  HAS  HAPPENED  TO  YOU  ?'" 306 

"IT  WAS  VERY  AMUSING  TO  SEE  THE  KING  MILK,  AFTER  HE 

HAD  FIRST  HUNG  HIS  CROWN  ON  THE  COW'S  HORN  "  .  .  308 

"THEREUPON  THE  GIANT  TOOK  OPOPONAX  THE  HALF  ON  HIS 
BACK  AND  A  JESTER  UNDER  EACH  ARM,  AND  COMMENCED 
RUNNING"  . 314 

"'  WHAT,  HO,  WITHOUT  THERE,  SIR  KNIGHT  OF  THE  SUSPENDER, 

COME  HITHER!'" 319 

"EVERY  ONE  WAS  SAWING  AWAY  FOR  DEAR  LIFE".     .     .     .  325 

"'HOW  ARE  THINGS  AT  THE  FARM?'" 338 

"HE  THEREUPON  GAVE  TIMOTHY  HAY  A  PURSE  CONTAINING 

MORE  GOLD  THAN  HE  HAD  COME  TO  ASK  FOR  HIMSELF "  .  337 

"  THE  GIANT  TOOK  MRS.  HAY  ON  ONE  ARM,  AND  TIMOTHY  ON 
THE  OTHER,  TO  GAIN  TIME,  AND  STARTED  FOR  THE  FARM 
ON  A  TROT" 340 


THE   MOON  PEINCE 


/  «• 

1&O-N 


exclaimed  little  Johnny,  "  but  I'd 
like  to  become  acquainted  with  a  real 
fairy.  I  have  read  so  much  about  them 
in  books  that  I  feel  they  must  be  very 
pleasant  people.  Oh,  if  I  could  only  be 
the  playmate  of  a  fairy  Prince,  1 — " 

"  I  am  a  fairy  Prince,"  came  suddenly  from  a  thicket 
near  by. 

"  You  ?      And  who  are  you,  pray  ?"  asked  Johnny, 
looking  in  vain  for  the  speaker. 

"As  I  just  remarked,  I  am  a  fairy  Prince." 
And  then  a  pretty  little  squirrel  hopped  out  on  the 
fence,  and   laughed  like   a  fairy,  until   Johnny  was 
frightened. 

u  You  must  not  be  afraid  of  me,"  said  the  little  fairy 


4  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

Prince,  assuringly,  "for  I  am  only  a  temporary  squirrel, 
and  I  long  for  a  congenial  playmate  who  is  not  a  fairy." 

"  But  how  long  are  you  going  to  be  a  squirrel  ?" 
asked  Johnny. 

"Until  to-morrow  at  8.13  P.M.,"  replied  the  Prince, 
who  broke  forth  with, 

"I'm  weary  of  the  butternut, 

The  walnut  and  pecan; 
The  chestnut  and  the  cocoa-nut 

Unman  this  little  man. 
The  hickory,  the  hazel-nut, 

The  nut  from  far  Brazil — 
Though  Autumn's  for  the  squirrel  nuts, 

I  shun  them  with  a  will !" 

"  Why,  how  in  the  world  did  you  come  to  be  a 
squirrel,  anyhow?"  asked  Johnny. 

"  In  this  way :  when  my  sister  Roseflake  was  six- 
teen, my  father,  the  King,  decided  to  give  her  a  party 
— one  that  should  never  be  forgotten  in  all  his  great 
domain.  It  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  give  you  a 
description  of  it,  because  it  was  simply  dazzling  and 
ravishing  in  all  the  details  of  its  loveliness  and  gran- 
deur. All  the  fairy  Princes  from  neighboring  countries 
were  there,  each  one  ambitious  to  win  the  heart  of 
Roseflake.  There  were  animals  made  of  candy,  life- 
size,  and  the  cakes  and  jellies  were  simply  poems. 
Such  a  feast  was  never  seen  before.  And  Roseflake 
was  so  lovely  that  her  very  presence  filled  the  air  with 
melody.  Her  step  was  as  light  as  the  blossom  in  the 
wind,  and  when  she  danced  her  feet  filled  the  palace 
with  a  symphony  that  was  felt  though  not  heard. 

"  At  the  feast  the  Prince  who  got  the  piece  of  cake 
containing  the  Brazil-nut  was  to  have  the  hand  of 
Roseflake.  The  other  nuts  were  represented  in  great 


THE    MOON    PRINCE 


variety,  but  there  was  only  one  Brazil-nut.  Just  before 
the  party  I  picked  all  the  nuts  out  of  the  cake  and 
ate  them,  believing 

•& 

-  _£-_»  vi^ 


that  when  their  loss 
was    discovered    it 

would  result  in  the 
„.    ,       .  . 
King  s    giving    an- 
other grand  party. 


"  AND  WHO  ARE  YOU,  PRAY  ?" 


But,  to  my  great 
horror,  he  did 
not.  He  simply 
had  me  turned 
into  a  squirrel, 
an(i  ^nt  to  the 
earth  to  feed  on 
nuts  for  a  given 
period.  And 

that  is  why  you  now  observe  Prince  Flowerbell  in  the 

form  of  a  squirrel." 

"  You  say  you  were  sent  to  the  earth,"  said  Johnny. 

"  Now,  where  did  you  come  from  ?" 
"  From  the  moon." 
"  Oh,  how  I  should  like  to  go   back  with  you  for 

about  a  week  !     How  soon  shall  you  return  ?" 


6  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

"  I  shall  return  to-morrow,  for  at  that  time  the  pe- 
riod of  my  squirrel  servitude,  if  I  may  so  term  it,  will 
have  expired.  I  return  to-morrow  night  as  soon  as 
the  moon  appears,  so  come  along." 

The  Squirrel  capered  along  the  fence,  and  Johnny 
ran  down  the  road,  until  the  former  jumped  into  a 
field  beside  a  great  pumpkin. 

"  Jump  in,"  exclaimed  the  Prince,  politely. 

"  Jump  in  where  ?"  asked  Johnny. 

"  In  there,"  said  the  Prince,  tapping  the  pumpkin. 
"  That  is  Cinderella's  coach." 

As  soon  as  he  touched  it,  it  turned  into  a  beautiful 
little  coach,  with  two  small  horses  before  it,  and  a 
coachman  on  the  box.  Johnny  suddenly  found  him- 
self reduced  in  height  to  a  few  inches,  sitting  beside 
the  Prince,  and  away  they  whirled  down  into  a  deep 
green  wood,  where  they  could  not  be  observed. 

As  soon  as  the  coach  stopped,  and  Johnny  at- 
tempted to  step  out,  he  found  himself  in  a  luxurious 
golden  chamber,  for  the  coach  had  been  turned  back 
into  a  pumpkin,  and  they  were  inside  of  it  for  the 
night. 

As  soon  as  the  horses  had  crouched  like  sleeping 
camels,  they  turned  into  luxurious  divans ;  and  the 
coachman  was  transformed  into  a  tall  lamp  that  shed 
the  softest  rays  of  moonlight  all  around,  his  face  be- 
coming incandescent  like  the  moon. 

As  this  chastened  light  filled  the  chamber,  Johnny 
was  enchanted,  for  to  him  it  seemed  a  magic  pagoda ; 
all  the  filmy  tapestries  of  the  pumpkin  looked  like 
flakes  of  yellow  roses  woven  together  loosely  with 
finest  silk,  while  the  seeds  glistened  like  jewels  in  its 
tawny  folds. 

"  The  beauty  of  this  incandescent  coachman,"  said 


THE    MOON    PRINCE 


the  Squirrel,  "  is  that  it  is  not  necessary  to  have  a  lamp 
on  the  carriage." 

All  this  seemed  very  strange  and  novel  to  Johnny, 
who  fancied  that  the  coachman  had  a  crank  by  which 
he  could  be  turned  on  and  off  like  a  gas-jet.     And 
then  it  seemed  so  queer  to  him 
to  be  only  a   few  inches  high. 
Even  his  clothing  had  been  re- 
duced  to    fit   his  anatomy,  and 
his  boxwood  top   was   only  the 
size   of  a   small   acorn.     In  his 
bewilderment  he  knew  not  what 
to  say,  but  finally  remarked, 

"  I  suppose  that  as  the  moon 
is  only  a  ball  of  living  light  at 
night,  there  is  no  school,  eh  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,"  replied  the  Squir- 
rel ;  "  but  only  night  school.  We 
sleep  when  your  world  is  light, 
for  then  ours  is  pale  and  dim  ; 
and  when  you  are  sleeping  in  this 
world  we  are  at  school  in  ours." 

"  It  must  be  a  great  place  for  the  study  of  astron- 
omy," said  Johnny.  "  I  suppose  you  know  all  about 
Cassiopeia's  Chair  and  the  Great  Bear  at  your  school  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  them,"  replied  the 
Squirrel.  "  For,  being  a  Prince,  I  don't  have  to  study. 
A  poor  old  laboring  fairy's  son  has  to  do  all  my  study- 
ing for  me,  and  whatever  he  learns  I  know  for  a  day 
or  two,  and  he  immediately  forgets.  Several  of  my 
brothers  and  sisters  have  been  educated  through  this 
poor  fairy,  who  knows  nothing.  Whenever  I  am 
whipped  this  poor  fairy  feels  the  pain.  I  catch  it  on 
the  back,  and  the  poor  fairy  jumps  a  yard  in  the  air. 


THE  INCANDESCENT 
COACHMAN. 


8  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

"  One  day  the  teacher  came  to  me,  and  said  he  was 
going  to  give  me  twelve  blows  for  turning  the  stove 
into  a  dancing  bear,  and  destroying  the  dignity  of  the 
institution ;  but  seeing  that  the  poor  fairy  was  sick, 
and  not  in  condition  to  withstand  the  shock,  I  turned 
the  teacher  into  a  plum-tree,  with  twelve  glowing  plums 
on  it.  The  twelve  plums  were  much  more  acceptable 
than  the  twelve  blows,  I  can  assure  you.  And  when 
the  plums  were  eaten  I  turned  all  the  teacher's  books 
into  hornets'  nests,  and  turned  the  plum-tree  back  into 
the  teacher.  In  fumbling  about  for  the  missing  books 
he  disturbed  one  of  the  hornets'  nests,  and  out  popped 
the  hornets,  but  before  they  could  sting  him  I  turned 
them  all  into  wild  flowers,  which  fluttered  into  his  glass 
of  water,  and  filled  the  air  with  delightful  fragrance. 
He  appreciated  the  kindness  with  which  I  tempered 
my  power,  and  never  again  took  advantage  of  his  own 
to  deal  me  a  blow  that  would  make  the  poor  fairy  dance 
with  pain." 

"  It  must  indeed  be  a  queer  place,  this  Moonland  from 
which  you  were  sent  to  assume  the  form  of  a  squirrel." 

"  It  is  not  half  so  queer  a  world  as  this  one  in  which 
we  now  are.  Why,  if  a  wild  animal  chases  you  here 
you  have  to  be  caught  and  killed !  Just  think  of  a 
person  not  being  able  to  assume  the  form  of  a  bird  at 
such  a  time,  and  escape  !" 

Here  the  Squirrel  laughed  so  hard  at  the  absurdity 
of  such  a  situation  that  one  of  the  couches  woke  up ; 
that  is,  it  gradually  reassumed  its  natural  horse  form, 
and  capered  three  or  four  times  around  the  pumpkin, 
as  around  a  circus  ring,  with  Johnny  and  the  Squirrel 
upon  his  back.  Then  the  other  couch  began  to  kick 
and  prance,  perhaps  from  sympathy,  and  it  was  very 
curious  to  see  it  gradually  assume  its  equine  shape. 


THE    MOON    PRINCE 


First  the  pillow  end  turned  into  a  head,  and  began  to 
neigh  impatiently  for  the  rest  to  hurry  into  the  shape 
of  the  popular  quadruped.  Then  the  casters  turned 
into  shoes,  and  the  whole  thing  stretched  and  was 
suddenly  a  horse. 

"  Do  they  ever  come  to  in  this  way  in  the  night  and 
start  off  on  a  gallop  with  their  occupants  ?" 


"CAPERED  THREE  OR  FOUR  TIMES  AROUND  THE  PUMPKIN." 

"  Nev-er,  nev-er,  my  fri-end,  for-when-one-is-a-sleep- 
on-them-their-slum-ber-can-not-be-bro-ken,"  replied  the 
Squirrel,  the  jolting  motion  of  the  horse  chopping  his 
words  into  syllables. 

Suddenly  they  were  both  dashed  to  the  ground,  but 
were  not  in  the  least  hurt. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?"  asked  Johnny,  after  he 
had  regained  his  feet  and  breath. 


10  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

"  It  means,"  replied  the  Squirrel,  "  that  their  motion 
has  been  stopped  by  their  suddenly  returning  to  the 
couch  state." 

And,  sure  enough,  there  were  the  two  horses  in  the 
shape  of  two  of  the  most  inviting  couches  one  could 
wish  to  see. 

"  They  are  happiest  when  they  are  couches,"  re- 
marked the  Squirrel.  "  Sometimes  when  we  are  out 
driving  they  try  to  turn  into  couches  in  the  middle  of 
the  road.  Have  some  chestnuts  ?" 

"  No,  thanks,"  replied  Johnny ;  "  I  had  a  hearty  meal 
before  I  met  you." 

"  Then  excuse  me  while  I  eat  some." 

The  Squirrel  began  eating  and  singing : 

RESOLVES. 

"I  have  been  a  gray  squirrel  ever  since 

I  rifled  that  cake  in  the  moon, 
But  I'll  be  a  very  frolicsome  Prince 

Of  rny  father's  realm  full  soon. 
And  if  a  great  cake  in  many  cuts 

They  ever  again  shall  make, 
Oh,  never  again  I'll  touch  the  nuts, 
Alone  and  complete  I'll  leave  the  nuts, 

If  I  eat  the  rest  of  the  cake. 

"I'm  a  penitent  squirrel  spry  and  gray 

When  I  sit  on  the  mossy  rail, 
And  chatter  the  weary  time  away 

In  the  shade  of  my  silver  tail. 
In  spite  of  the  various  '  ifs '  and  '  buts ' 

Put  in  for  argument's  sake, 
If  a  great  big  cake  they  make  of  nuts, 
I'll  fly  for  my  life  from  the  tempting  nuts, 

If  I  eat  the  rest  of  the  cake." 

"Do  you  make  that  sort  of  thing  up  as  you  go 
along?"  asked  Johnny. 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  11 

"  Certainly.  It  is  quite  easy  when  so  irregular  and 
sing-songy,"  replied  the  Squirrel,  "  when  you  once  be- 
come accustomed  to  it.  Here  is  my  first  production, 
a  counting-out  verse  to  decide  who  shall  be  '  it '  in  any 
game : 

"'Cider,  vinegar,  nut-brown  ale, 
Seventeen  monkeys  in  a  pail ; 
Fourteen  were  blown  way  out  to  sea, 
Which  left,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  but  three.'" 

"  When  do  you  think  you'll  start  for  the  moon  ?" 
asked  Johnny,  without  commenting  upon  the  verse. 

"To-morrow  night  at  8.13." 

"  Well,  you  must  look  out  that  you  are  not  capt- 
ured to-morrow  and  put  in  a  cage,  to  spend  the  rest  of 
your  life  running  around  in  a  wire  wheel  for  exercise." 

The  Squirrel  did  not  relish  this  possibility  much, 
and  promised  to  remain  in  the  pumpkin  until  time  to 
start. 

"  But  suppose  the  pumpkin  should  be  taken  by 
some  one  and  made  into  a  pie  with  us  in  it  ?" 

"  We  are  pretty  safe,"  replied  the  Squirrel,  "because 
we  are  in  a  deep  wood  that  no  one  ventures  into,  and 
besides  I  could  turn  the  pumpkin  into  a  carriage  and 
drive  away  if  I  should  hear  any  one  coming ;  and  you 
know  my  squirrel  sense  of  hearing  is  very  keen.  I  can 
tell  you  another  thing,  and  that  is  that  it  will  be  sim- 
ply nuts  for  me  when  I  am  unsquirreled  and  restored 
to  my  fairy  princeship.  Just  look  at  that  green-eyed 
owl  peeping  in  through  the  oriel  of  the  coach.  Did 
you  ever  hear  a  story  called  the  '  Owl  and  the  Veter- 
inary Surgeon '  ?" 

"  No,  I  never  did,"  replied  Johnny.  "  Will  you  tell 
me  the  story  ?" 


12  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

"  I  don't  know  it.  " 

"  But  you  just  asked  me  if  I  ever  heard  it,"  replied 
Johnny.  "  Now,  if  you  never  heard  of  even  the  exist- 
ence of  such  a  story,  why  did  you  ask  me  if  I  ever 
heard  the  story  itself  ?" 

"  Because  I  thought  if  you  had  ever  heard  it,  you 
would  not  object  to  telling  it  to  me." 

"  Of  course  I  should  not  object  to  telling  it  to  you 
if  I  knew  it,"  replied  Johnny. 

"  Well,  that's  all  I  want  to  know.  What's  the  use 
of  getting  angry  over  it?" 

"  I  am  not  angry ;  I  am  in  a  good-humor." 

"  Who  said  you  were  angry  ?"  asked  the  Squirrel. 

"  You  did,"  replied  Johnny. 

"  No,  I  did  not ;  I  said, '  getting  angry.'  If  you  arc 
in  a  good-humor  now,  how  do  you  feel  when  you're 
angry  ?" 

"  I  don't  know ;  but  what  has  that  to  do  with  the 
'  Owl  and  the  Veterinary  Surgeon '  ?" 

"  Nothing !"  said  the  Squirrel. 

"  Who  said  it  had  ?"  asked  Johnny. 

"You  intimated  as  much,"  replied  the  Squirrel. 

"  What  if  I  did  ?" 

"  Nothing,"  replied  the  Squirrel. 

"  Then  we  had  better  change  the  subject." 

"  All  right,"  responded  the  Squirrel ;  "  we  will 
change  it.  Suppose  we  retire  to  dream-land,  and  pre- 
pare for  our  approaching  trip  to  the  moon  ?" 

"  A  good  idea,"  replied  Johnny. 

And  then  the  Squirrel  sang  : 

"At  8.13  to-morrow  night 

From  the  home  of  the  wild  raccoon, 
We'll  drift  away  in  the  soft  moonlight 
To  my  home  in  the  silver  moon!" 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  13 

Then  he  hit  the  coachman's  hat  and  drove  it  down 
over  his  luminous  face,  and  the  pumpkin  was  dark- 
ened for  the  night.  And  very  shortly  after  Johnny 
and  Prince  Flowerbell  were  wandering  in  sunny  mead- 
ows that  seemed  steeped  in  benisons  of  flowerful 
balm,  through  which  the  myriad  dronings  of  insects 
floated  like  a  soothing  symphony,  until  all  was  a  pen- 
sive bower  of  soft  empurpled  sleep. 


n 


THE  Squirrel  was  as  fast  asleep  as  a  squirrel  can  be 
when  the  first  faint  ray  of  dawn  appeared  through  the 
oriel  of  the  pumpkin.  But  at  this  early  hour  Johnny 
was  wide  awake,  wondering  if  he  was  not  in  reality 
living  in  a  sleeping  dream.  He  could  remember  many 
dreams  that  were  not  half  so  wonderful  as  this  ex- 
perience. When  he  had  read  of  fairies  he  never  ex- 
pected to  meet  one  ;  and  when  the  nurse  had  told  him 
him  the  fascinating  story  of  Cinderella,  little  did  he 
imagine  that  he  would  ever  be  driven  about  in  her 
dainty  vehicle,  and  sleep  in  the  magic  pumpkin  from 
which  it  was  made. 

But  he  was  at  a  loss  to  know  what  had  become  of 
the  other  horses  that  belonged  to  Cinderella's  carriage, 
and  to  account  for  the  absence  of  the  footmen.  So 
when  the  Squirrel  awoke  and  stretched  himself  Johnny 
asked, 

"  How  is  it  that  you  have  but  two  horses  and  no 
footmen  ?" 

"  When  I  was  doomed  to  visit  the  earth,  and  be  a 
squirrel,  and  live  on  nuts,  I  was  not  sent  away  to  enjoy 
myself,  and  my  outfit  was  made  as  small  as  possible. 
I  suppose  the  horses  are  gambolling  over  their  beauti- 
ful moon  meadows,  regaling  their  inner  horses  with 
the  night-blooming  cereus  (our  national  flower),  and 
the  footmen  are  being  used  for  various  purposes." 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  15 

"  For  various  purposes  ?"  asked  Johnny.  "  Why,  to 
what  other  uses  can  you  put  a  footman  ?" 

"  To  a  great  many,"  observed  the  Squirrel.  "  You 
know  my  father  can  turn  one  thing  into  another  in  a 
jiffy,  and  frequently  does  it  to  save  time.  For  instance, 


THE    SQUIRREL    RECITES    A    REMINISCENT    POEM. 

if  he  wants  to  sharpen  a  pencil,  and  his  knife  is  up- 
stairs, he  calls  the  nearest  servant,  turns  him  into  a 
knife,  and  proceeds  with  the  pencil-sharpening.  One 
day,  upon  observing  a  pen-holder  in  an  out-of-the-way 
place,  he  remembered  that  the  same  was  a  servant  that 
had  been  missing  six  months,  and  as  soon  as  he  was 
brought  out  of  his  pen-holder  state  he  was  as  happy 
as  the  King  himself.  Would  you  like  me  to  recite 
you  a  little  reminiscent  poem  called  '  My  Father  and 
the  Clown '?" 

"  I  should  like  to  hear  it  very  much,"  said  Johnny. 

Then  the  Squirrel  sat  upon  his  hinder  legs,  that  he 
might  make  gestures  with  his  paws,  and  began  : 

MY  FATHER  AND  THE  CLOWN. 

"  My  father  once  sat  by  his  bright  blazing  grate, 

Much  in  need  of  a  raking  down ; 
The  poker  was  missing,  I'm  sorry  to  state, 
So  he  seized  on  the  palace  clown. 


16  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

"And  lie  turned  him  right  into  a  poker  slim, 

And  among  all  the  coals  red-hot, 
With  a  petulant  movement  he  rattled  him 
Until  perfectly  white  he  got. 

"He  was  whiter  with  heat  than  the  drifted  snow 

When  my  father  the  raking  stopped; 
At  a  word,  from  the  poker  more  than  aglow, 
The  buffoon  in  a  jiffy  popped. 

jf  Then  he  said,  as  he  jumped  with  the  burning  pain, 

By  a  fine  sense  of  fun  controlled, 
'When  I'm  used  for  a  red-hot  poker  again, 
Unpoker  me  not  till  I'm  cold.'" 

"  That  was  very  funny,"  said  Johnny,  clapping  his 
hands  with  keen  delight,  "  but  I  feel  very  sorry  for  the 
poor  clown.  But  how  did  your  father  treat  the  clown 
for  the  liberty  he  took  in  addressing  him  in  such  a 
familiar  manner?" 

u  I  think  he  gave  him  a  snuffbox,  or  something  of 
the  kind.  You  know  my  father  is  so  fond  of  a  joke 
that  after  you  have  regaled  him  with  a  good  one  you 
can  do  almost  anything  you  please  with  him." 

"  He  must  be  a  very  nice  father.  Do  you  suppose 
if  I  got  off  a  good  joke  in  his  presence  that  he  would 
stand  against  the  wall  and  let  me  throw  a  ball  at  him  ?" 

"  In  all  probability  he  would  ;  but  if  the  joke  should 
happen  to  be  lacking  in  merit,  or  of  ancient  origin,  he 
would  probably  stand  you  against  the  wall  to  be  the 
target.  Upon  one  occasion  a  person  wanted  some 
favor  from  my  father,  upon  whom  he  vented  an  obso- 
lete joke  which  he  fancied  the  King  had  never  heard." 

"  What  did  your  father  do  ?"  asked  Johnny. 

"  What  did  he  do  ?"  repeated  the  Squirrel — "  what 
did  he  do  ?  Why,  before  that  man  was  aware  of  his 


THE    MOON    PRINCE 


17 


blunder  he  was  a  pair  of  nut-crackers.  But  he  was 
made  to  retain  his  sense  of  feeling.  I  have  often  tried 
to  picture  to  myself  that  man's  sensations  when  the 
nut-cracker  came  together  on  a  shagbark  hickory  or  a 
common  walnut.  When  he  was  transformed  into  his 
normal  shape  he  hobbled  around  on  crutches  for  a 
month,  and  appeared  like  one  afflicted  with  incurable 
rheumatism.  He  was  so 
sore  that  he  never  after 
perpetrated  a  joke  or 
laughed  at  one,  although 
my  father  gave  him  a 
kindly  lecture  and  a  bot- 
tle of  liniment  when  he 
ceased  to  be  a  pair  of 
nut-crackers." 

"  I  wish  it  was  a  lit- 
tle lighter,"  said  John- 
ny, irrelevantly.  "  Don't 
you  think  it  a  little  dark 
yet?" 

The  Squirrel  replied  by 
knocking  off  the  coach- 
man's hat,  which  caused 
the  face  of  that  digni- 
tary  to  cast  forth  its  soft 

pearly  beams  and  illuminate  the  pumpkin  like  a  ball- 
room. Then  Johnny  began  to  make  inquiries  relative 
to  breakfast. 

"  We  don't  have  to  eat,  because  we  never  become 
hungry  in  this  pumpkin  or  in  the  coach.  Whenever  I 
am  outside  eating  nuts,  and  the  nuts  do  not  satisfy 
riy  appetite,  I  fly  back  to  the  coach  and  feel  as  though 
1  have  just  had  a  hearty  meal." 


ME  NOT  TILL  I'M  COLD." 


18  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

"  Come  to  think  of  it,"  said  Johnny,  "  I  have  a  feel- 
ing of  repletion  just  now  myself.  I  feel  as  though  a 
nice  big  plate  of  golden  cakes  and  maple  syrup  would 
not  tempt  me  at  all.  Besides,  1  imagine  that  since  I 
have  been  reduced  in  size  ray  capacity  for  eating  has 
diminished  proportionately" 

"  No  doubt  it  has,  Johnny,"  replied  the  Squirrel ; 
"  but  I  wish  you  would  use  ordinary  language  in  ad- 
dressing me.  Don't  talk  so  much  like  a  school-teacher." 

"  I  will  try  not  to,"  said  Johnny. 

"  All  right ;  try  your  best,  and  if  you  succeed  I  shall 
be  very  happy  to  take  you  to  the  Molasses  River  when 
we  reach  the  moon." 

"  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  all  about  the  Molasses 
River,"  said  Johnny. 

"You  would  never  be  able  to  gain  anything  like  a 
fair  idea  of  its  saccharine  picturesqueness  from  an  or- 
dinary description.  It  must  be  seen  to  be  appreciated. 
A  number  of  poems  have  been  written  upon  this  won- 
derful body  of  molasses.  This  is  the  only  one  that  I  can 
recall  at  present : 

MOLASSES  RIVER. 

"I  rise  on  Sugar-loaf  Mountain, 

And  tenderly  flow  along, 
A  plaintive  saccharine  fountain 
A- singing  a  dulcet  song. 

"  White  sugar  's  the  shining  gravel 
That  makes  my  pleasant  shore, 
And  with  great  delight  I  travel 
By  many  a  candy  store. 

"A- glide  through  the  winding  channel, 

The  lilies  that  make  me  glad 

Are  cocoa-nut  cakes,  and  a  flannel 

Flapjack  is  each  floating  pad. 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  19 

"Maples  and  sugar-beets  breezy 

Over  my  sweet  tide  droop ; 
Each  shell  on  my  shores,  'tis  easy 
To  see,  is  a  sugar -scoop. 

"  With  rapture  along  I  wrestle, 

And  joyously  splash  and  bob, 
Till  I'm  caged  in  the  gray  stone  vessel 
That's  corked  with  an  old  corn-cob." 


"  And  will  you  take  me  to  see  this  beautiful  river  ?" 
asked  Johnny. 

"  Certainly  ;  I  shall  be  only  too  happy  to  take  you 
sailing  on  it  when  we  have  our  next  picnic,  which — " 

"  Oh,  look  there  !"  broke  in  Johnny. 

They  both  looked  up  at  the  oriel  of  the  pumpkin, 
and  there  was  the  old  owl  again,  gazing  upon  them 
with  all  the  intensity  of  his  burning  bottle-green  eyes. 
But  he  had  a  pleasant  expression  rarely  seen  in  an 
owl,  and  instead  of  accosting  him  rudely,  they  said : 

"  Good-morning,  Mr.  Owl.  Are  not  you  up  rather 
early  this  morning  ?" 

"  It  is  rather  early  for  me,"  replied  the  Owl.  "  As 
the  daylight  dawns  I  cannot  see,  because,  you  know, 
darkness  is  liglit  to  me.  While  sitting  under  yonder 
tree,  groping  and  feeling  my  way  around  in  the  light, 
I  happened  to  discern  a  ribbon  of  moonshine  drifting 
from  this  pumpkin,  and  I  thought  I  would  come  over 
and  solve  the  mystery.  I  trust  you  will  pardon  the 
intrusion,  and  excuse  my  seeming  rudeness." 

"  Certainly,"  replied  the  Squirrel.  "  Will  not  you 
walk  or  fly  into  the  pumpkin  ?" 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  you  are  not  engaged  in  discuss- 
ing some  private  matter  ?"  asked  the  Owl,  politely. 

"  We  are  sure,"  replied  the  Squirrel. 


20  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

In  a  moment  the  oriel  increased  in  size,  and  in 
popped  the  Owl,  and  perched  on  one  of  the  couch- 
horses.  He  looked  all  around,  and  his  eyes  seemed  to 
grow  greener,  until  he  put  on  a  pair  of  black  glasses. 

"  With  these  glasses,"  observed  the  Owl,  "  I  can  al- 
ways discern  things  more  distinctly.  They  are  inval- 
uable to  me  in  the  hunting  of  field-mice.  Is  this  your 
home,  Mr.  Squirrel  ?" 

"  It  is  just  at  present ;  but  when  I  get  back  to  the 
moon  I  shall  be  a  Prince." 

"  I  see,"  remarked  the  Owl ;  "  you  are  a  moon 
squirrel.  I  suppose  you  run  around  in  the  moon  as  in 
a  wire  wheel,  and  keep  the  great  orb  whirling.  If  you 
will  kindly  excuse  me  for  speaking  about  myself,  I 
will  say  that  my  only  grievance  is  that  I  cannot  see  in 
the  daytime.  Do  you  think  it  would  be  consistent 
with  my  feelings  of  self-respect  to  offer  to  lead  a  crow 
around  at  night  if  the  crow  would  chaperon  me  during 
the  day  ?" 

"  It  might,"  replied  the  Squirrel.  "  But  the  only  ob- 
jection I  can  see  is  that  neither  of  you  would  get  the 
necessary  amount  of  sleep.  You  say  you  can  only  see 
in  the  dark  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Owl. 

"  Then  you  ought  to  be  able  to  see  first-rate  when 
you  close  your  eyes." 

The  Owl  did  not  care  to  try  the  experiment,  for  fear 
he  was  being  chaffed  by  the  Squirrel,  and  yet  he  did 
not  feel  sufficiently  certain  that  he  was  being  chaffed 
to  justify  him  in  acting  as  though  offended.  So  he 
pretended  that  the  observation  missed  him,  and  began 
a  volley  of  questions  by  asking  the  Squirrel  for  an  ex- 
planation of  the  pumpkin  mystery,  the  coachman-lamp, 
and,  in  fact,  everything  connected  with  his  squirrelship. 


\ 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  23 

He  was  soon  acquainted  with  the  history  of  the  Prince's 
life,  and  of  his  melancholy  fate  in  being  turned  into  a 
squirrel.  But  no  sooner  had  the  Squirrel  given  an 
account  of  himself  than  he  asked  the  Owl  to  say  some- 
thing appertaining  to  his  owlship. 

"  I  shall  be  only  too  happy  to  furnish  the  desired 
information.  May  I  burst  into  song  2" 

"  Certainly  you  may,"  replied  the  Squirrel. 

And  then  by  the  dim  light  of  the  coachman-lamp 
the  bird  of  wisdom  sang : 

THE  SONG  OF  THE  OWL. 

"I  am  an  owl  of  orders  gray, 

As  happy  as  can  be; 
The  sunny  day  I  dream  away 

Within  a  hollow  tree. 
But  when  night  comes,  with  much  ado 
I  through  the  forest  flit, 
Till  on  some  root 
I  rest  and  hoot — 
Tu  woo,  tu-woo,  tu-woo,  tu-woo! 
Tu-whit,  tu-whit,  tu-whit! 

"Unto  the  minster  oft  I  fly, 

Where,  in  my  ashen  cowl, 
I  hear  the  winds  of  summer  sigh, 

The  winds  of  winter  howl ; 
Where  blue  doves  woo  and  bill  and  coo, 
I  on  the  rafter  sit, 
And  moping  sing 
Beneath  my  wing, 
Tu-woo,  tu-woo,  tu-woo,  tu-woo! 
Tu-whit,  tu-whit,  tu-whit!" 

"  A  very  nice  song,  to  a  lively  tripping  air,  and  with 
a  sort  of  choice  mediaeval  flavor,"  observed  the  Squirrel. 
"Up  to  this  time  I  always  fancied  you  the  most  philo- 


24  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

sophic  bird  on  earth,  giving  your  attention  only  to  seri- 
ous stubborn  facts,  and  I  can  assure  you  I  am  pleased 
to  find  you  so  richly  endowed  with  the  lyric  gift.  I 
have  a  little  suggestion  to  offer,  or  rather  a  proposition 
to  make." 

"  Make  it !"  exclaimed  the  Owl,  rather  abruptly. 

"  I  would  like  to  take  you  with  me  to  the  moon,  for 
there  you  will  b'e  able  to  see  all  the  time,  and  will  never 
have  to  seek  the  aid  of  eye-glasses.  You  may  not  be 
aware  of  the  fact,  but  there  is  not  an  owl  in  the  moon, 
and  there  has  not  been  one  there  for  centuries.  *  Do 
you  know  why  you  hoot  at  night  ?" 

"  I  never  thought  there  was  any  special  reason,"  re- 
plied the  Owl. 

"Well,  there  is,"  continued  the  Squirrel.  "When 
you  hoot  at  night  it  is  an  unconscious  invocation  to 
the  moon.  When  you  madly  tear  a  field-mouse  to 
pieces  your  feelings  are  really  those  of  disappointment 
at  not  being  able  to  live  in  the  moon ;  you  are  desper- 
ately in  love  with  the  moon,  and  yet  you  don't  know 
it.  Now,  suppose  Johnny  were  fond  of  pie,  and  yet 
unconscious  of  it,  would  not  you  think  it  a  very  queer 
proposition  ?" 

"  I  certainly  should,"  replied  the  Owl.  "  But  why 
do  I  love  the  moon  ?" 

"  Because  your  ancestors  were  originally  moon  birds, 
and  very  merry  birds  they  were,  too.  They  only  be- 
came solemn  after  they  reached  the  earth.  Some  of 
your  species  still  have  the  white  moon  face.  When 
in  the  moon  you  were  always  playing  tricks  and  creat- 
ing merriment.  Now,  at  the  downfall  of  your  ances- 
tors,  my  great-great-grandfather,  Moonshine  the  Sev- 
enth, was  King.  He  was  as  bald  as  the  moon  itself 
appears  from  the  earth.  He  was  so  bald  that  he  always 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  27 

had  to  wear  a  fur  hat  to  prevent  his  taking  cold.  But 
he  was  as  fond  of  a  joke  as  he  was  bald,  and  although 
he  could  perform  all  sorts  of  moon  miracles,  he  could 
not  make  hair  grow  on  his  head.  One  day  an  old  owl 
went  to  him  for  the  purpose  of  amusing  him  with  a 
fresh-laid  joke.  He  said  he  had  been  wrecked  on  the 
Molasses  River,  and  was  so  weak  from  exposure  that 
he  had  hardly  sufficient  strength  to  retain  his  feathers. 
He  then  said  he  was  making  a  desperate  struggle  to 
maintain  his  family  by  the  sale  of  a  little  article,  and 
whipped  a  bottle  of  hair-curling  fluid  from  under  his 
wing,  and  offered  it  to  him  for  a  trifling  sum.  Instead 
of  the  King  laughing  violently  at  the  absurdity  of 
being  offered  a  curling  fluid  when  he  had  no  hair,  as 
the  owl  supposed  he  would,  he  flew  into  a  towering 
rage,  and  ordered  all  the  owls  to  be  driven  from  the 
moon.  And  that  is  the  reason  you  are  all  such  a 
thoughtful,  melancholy  family  on  the  earth.  It  was 
then  decreed  that  no  owl  should  ever  again  live  in  the 
moon  unless  brought  there  by  one  of  the  royal  family. 
At  8.13  to-night  the  moon  will  appear,  and  by  that 
time  we  must  be  in  readiness." 

"  But  how  do  we  go  ?"  asked  the  mystified  Owl. 

"  That's  what  I'd  like  to  know,  too  !"  exclaimed 
Johnny.  "  How  do  we  go  ?" 

"Wait  until  8.13,"  replied  the  Squirrel,  "and  you 
shall  see." 


Ill 


THE  day  was  wearing  away  very  slowly  for  the  Squir- 
rel, Johnny,  and  the  Owl,  because  they  were  all  so 
anxious  to  start  on  their  journey  to  the  moon.  The 
Squirrel  ran  all  over  the  inside  of  the  pumpkin ;  and 
the  Owl,  so  happy  on  being  able  to  see  in  the  soft 
light  waves  of  the  coachman-lamp,  flapped  his  wings 
for  exercise  with  great  glee,  and  hooted  in  the  most 
rapturous  manner.  Johnny  was  full  of  expectation, 
and  looked  forward  with  wild  delight  to  all  the  mys- 
teries of  Moonland.  The  Molasses  River  and  the 
picnic  upon  its  saccharine  shores  filled  him  with  the 
liveliest  anticipations  of  pleasure.  Finally  the  after- 
noon came,  and  drifted  softly  away  into  a  purple  dream, 
in  which  the  leaves  rustled  like  an  seolian  melody. 

The  Squirrel  sat  at  the  edge  of  the  pumpkin  oriel, 
and  looked  out  upon  the  scene  of  pulsing  calm  from 
which  he  was  shortly  to  be  torn  forever.  The  brook 
lisped  through  the  murmuring  grasses,  the  trees  waved 
gently  to  and  fro,  and  the  sun,  piercing  the  solitudes 
of  the  wood,  gilded  the  dreaming  violets,  and  seemed 
to  set  them  atremble.  At  last  the  sun  dropped  behind 
a  distant  hill,  and  its  reflection  dyed  the  sky  a  delicate 
rose  that  nestled  in  the  dimples  of  the  clouds.  And 
then  the  rose  faded  into  olive,  and  the  olive  into  gray, 
in  which  a  great  white  star  sparkled  like  a  blazing 
flower. 


THE    MOON    PRINCE 


29 


One  by  one  the  trees  became  more  indistinct;  the 
outlines  of  the  landscape  melted  into  darkness,  until 
suddenly  a  great  bil- 
low  of    moonlight 
broke  over  brook 
and    field,    and 
made  the  world 
seem   one  of 
pearly  splen- 
dor. 


"  All  aboard  ! 
It's  8.13!"  ex- 
claimed the 
Squirrel. 

As  he  uttered 
these  words  the 
pumpkin  sud- 
denly turned  not 
into  Cinderella's 
carriage,  but  into 
a  beautiful  boat 
of  pearl,  with  an 
ivory  mast  and  a 
luxurious  crim- 
son sail  of  dim- 
pled silk. 

"  I  am  not  ac- 
customed to  such 
sudden  changes," 
exclaimed  the 

Owl,  "  so  please  excuse  my  apparent  agitation." 
Johnny   could  only  clap  his  hands  with  delight, 


"  THE    MOONLIT   EARTH   WHIRLING    AROUND 
IN    INKINESS." 


30  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

while  the  Squirrel,  in  the  exuberance  of  his  joy,  ran  up 
the  rigging  like  a  sailor,  and  sat  upon  the  top  of  the 
mast.  The  horses  were  on  the  deck,  acting  as  pump- 
kin-colored lounges ;  and  the  coachman,  having  been 
unlamped  for  the  occasion,  was  at  the  helm  steering — 
for  by  this  time  the  boat  of  pearl  was  sailing  in  the 
moonlight  hundreds  of  feet  above  the  highest  trees. 

"This  boat  does  not  sail  on  water,"  said  the  Squirrel, 
who  had  just  come  down  from  the  mast-head,  "  only 
on  the  moonlight." 

"  If  the  moon  should  go  behind  a  cloud,  would  we 
drop  in  the  darkness  ?"  asked  Johnny. 

"  Not  at  all,"  replied -the  Squirrel,  much  to  the  satis- 
faction of  Johnny,  who  was  a  little  nervous.  "  In  that 
case  the  boat  would  only  stand  still  until  the  reappear- 
ance of  the  moon.  The  boat  is  drawn  by  the  moon  to 
itself.  Do  you  know  how  fast  we  are  going?" 

"  No.     How  fast  ?"  asked  the  Owl. 

"  About  one  hundred  miles  a  minute.  We  are  go- 
ing so  fast  that  we  don't  seem  to  be  going  at  all." 

"  I  must  confess,"  said  the  Owl,  "  that  this  is  about 
the  queerest  experience  I  have  had  so  far  in  life.  Why, 
gracious  me  !  look  at  that  silver  ball  down  there  ! 
What  is  that  ?" 

"  That  is  the  moonlit  earth  whirling  around  in  ink- 
iness." 

"  The  world  also  rolls  in  inkiness  during  the  day," 
said  the  Owl. 

"  What  kind  of  inkiness,  pray  ?"  asked  the  Squirrel. 

"  Gold-inkiness,"  replied  the  Owl. 

"  How  do  you  know,"  asked  Johnny,  "  when  you 
can't  see  during  the  day  ?  I  never  supposed  you  knew 
anything  appertaining  to  the  day  before  the  arrival  of 
the  evening  paper." 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  31 

The  Squirrel  chattered,  and  the  Owl  enveloped  his 
face  as  best  he  could  in  his  feathery  bonnet. 

"  It  would  not  be  a  bad  scheme,"  observed  the  Owl, 
over-solicitous  to  change  the  subject  of  conversation,"  to 
have  a  song,  a  serenade  or  something  of  that  kind,  that 
would  be  in  harmony  with  this  divinely  lovely  evening." 

"  Suppose  you  sing,  then,"  suggested  the  Squirrel. 

"  I  don't  know  anything ;  and,  besides,  I  have  a  cold." 

Johnny  said  he  could  remember  nothing  but  the 
rhyme  of  the  cow  that  jumped  over  the  moon,  which 
they  both  knew.  The  Squirrel  was  so  pleased  with 
the  allusion  to  his  beloved  moon  that  he  volunteered 
to  sing  himself,  so  Johnny  and  the  Owl  both  listened 
with  attention,  while  the  Squirrel  poured  forth  a  little 
lyric  which  he  called,  simply, 

A  LEGEND. 

"A  moonbeam  once  fell  in  the  bell  of  a  flower 

Way  down  by  a  silvery  rill ; 
'Twas  cradled  to  sleep  in  a  rapturous  liour 
When  all  the  green  forest  was  still. 

"  That  flower,  when  golden  and  glad  was  the  morning, 

Was  shrivelled  and  wilted  and  thin ; 
But  on  the  next  night,  all  its  chalice  adorning, 
The  moonbeam  still  lingered  within. 

"Since  then  has  that  flower  been  tender  and  creamy 

Wherever  its  petals  have  blown ; 
All  fragile  and  pearly  and  dainty  and  dreamy 
Is  the  night-blooming  cereus  known." 

"  That  is  indeed  very  pretty,"  observed  the  Owl 
when  the  Squirrel  had  paused ;  "  it  is  indeed  a  beau- 
tiful little  gem,  and  I  trust  that  you  may  not  mistake 
my  enthusiastic  praise  for  patronage.  I  am  blest  with 


32  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

a  fond  poetic  soul,  and  that  is  why  I  am  capable  of 
appreciating  your  sweet  little  song." 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  you  to  be  so  favorably  im- 
pressed," replied  the  Squirrel,  timidly  ;  "  I  appreciate 
your  kindly  criticism  very  much." 

"  I  greatly  prefer  funny  poems,"  said  Johnny — 
"  funny  poems  about  giants  and  witches  and  pirates." 

"  They  are  very  good  in  their  way,"  broke  in  the 
Owl,  "but  I  prefer  something  less  evanescent.  If  we 
read  for  amusement,  why  cannot  we  be  amused  by  the 
serious  as  much  as  by  that  which  leans  to  the  ludi- 
crous. Sometimes,  you  know,  a  serious  thing  makes 
us  laugh  and  a  funny  thing  does  not.  Now — " 

"  There  goes  the  bird  of  wisdom  pouring  forth  his 
philosophy  on  the  poetic  cult !"  exclaimed  the  Squirrel. 
"  Did  you  ever  play  steam  poetry  ?" 

"What  is  steam  poetry?"  asked  Johnny  and  the 
Owl. 

"  It's  a  kind  of  poetry,"  replied  the  Squirrel,  "  in 
which  you  keep  up  the  rhyming  as  long  as  you  can 
find  a  rhyme  without  stopping  to  think  about  the 
metre,  which  is  generally  most  effective  through  any 
irregularity  that  has  an  audacious  happy-go-lucky  air. 
Would  you  like  to  try  a  game  ?" 

"Yes,  certainly,  certainly,"  they  replied  together. 
"  Let's  begin  right  away." 

"All  right.  Now  I'll  begin  by  saying  two  lines, 
then  Johnny  must  follow  with  two  lines,  and  the  Owl 
must  add  two,  and  that  will  make  a  verse.  Then  we 
will  keep  it  up  until  we  can't  keep  it  up  any  longer, 
How  does  this  strike  you  for  a  title  ? — '  The  Romaunt 
of  the  Higglede-piggiddy  and  the  Sensitive  Baraboo.'  " 

"  First-rate." 

"  All  right,"  said  the  Squirrel.     "  Here  we  go :" 


THE    MOON    PRINCE 


33 


THE  SQUIRREL.     The  Higglede-piggiddy  fell  in  love 
With  the  sensitive  Baraboo; 

JOHNNY.  He  loved  her  so  very  intensely  that 

He  didn't  know  what  to  do  — 

THE  OWL.  Tu-whit,  tu-whit,  tu-whit,  tu-whit! 

Tu-woo,  tu-woo,  tu-woo  ! 


'THE  HIGGLEDE-PIGGIDDY  AND  THE  SENSITIVE  BARABOO." 


THE  SQUIRREL.  The  Higglede-piggiddy,  all  upset, 
In  a  vacant  dream  would  sit, 

JOHNNY.  And  whether  he  fell  asleep  or  not, 

He  cared  not  a  single  bit — 

THE  O\VL.  Tu-woo,  tu-woo,  tu-woo,  tu-woo ! 

Tu-whit,  tu-whit,  tu-whit! 

THE  SQUIRREL.  Oh,  silly  Higglede-piggiddy,  don't 
Come  hither  to  bill  and  coo ; 

JOHNNY.  I  cnn  only  your  loving  sister  be,, 

Said  the  sensitive  Baraboo — 

THE  OWL.  Tu-whit,  tu-whit,  tu-whit,  tu-whit ! 

Tu-woo,  tu-woo,  tu-woo ! 

THE  SQUIRREL.     The  Higglede-piggiddy  then  and  there 
A  cigarette  coolly  lit ; 


84  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

JOHNNY.  To-morrow  her  letters,  one  and  all, 

Unto  her  shall  I  transmit — 
THE  OWL.  Tu-woo,  tu-woo,  tu-woo,  tu-woo! 

Tu-whit,  tu-whit,  tu-whit ! 

THE  SQCIRREL.     The  Higglede-piggiddy  didn't  fume 
Or  make  a  great  hullabaloo; 

JOHNNY.  Oh,  not  in  his  pocket-handkerchief 

Did  he  spill  one  small  boo-hoo — 

THE  OWL.  Tu-whit,  tu-whit,  tu-whit,  tu-whit! 

Tu-woo,  tu-woo,  tu-woo ! 

THE  SQCIRREL.     He  sang  each  day  in  his  usual  way, 

As  gay  as  the  gay  torn-tit ; 
JOHNNY.  He  circled  about  like  the  swallow  spry, 

Or  the  goose  on  the  whirling  spit — 
THE  OWL.  Tu-woo,  tu-woo,  tu-woo,  tu-woo  ! 

Tu-whit,  tu-whit,  tu-whit ! 

THE  SQCIRREL.     The  Higglede-piggiddy's  now  forgot, 

Like  the  sensitive  Baraboo ; 
JOHNNY.  They're  a  blank  from  the  famous  Russian  steppes 

To  the  village  of  Kickapoo — 
THE  OWL.  Tu-whit,  tu-whit,  tu-whit,  tu-whit ! 

Tu-woo,  tu-woo,  tu-woo ! 

THE  SQCIRREL.     Like  them  we  may  all  be  laid  away 
If  we  here  in  the  dew-fall  sit, 

JOHNNY.  So  into  the  cabin  sumptuous 

I  think  we  had  better  flit — • 

THE  OWL.  Tu-woo,  tu-woo,  tu-woo,  tu-woo ! 

Tu-whit,  tu-whit,  tu-whit ! 


"  Why  don't  you  go  ahead  ?"  asked  the  Owl. 

"  It  is  all  well  enough  for  you  to  talk  about  going 
ahead,  when  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  tag  a  '  tu-woo  ' 
and  a  '  tu-whit '  on  the  end.  I  suppose  you  could 
keep  it  up  all  day  long,"  said  the  Squirrel,  sarcastically. 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  35 

"  There  is  no  necessity  for  your  being  vexed," 
observed  the  Owl,  apologetically.  "  I  would  not  offend 
you  for  the  world — no,  not  for  the  moon  itself." 

As  soon  as  the  smile  of  forgiveness  lighted  the 
Squirrel's  face,  the  tear  of  regret  fell  from  the  Owl's 
green  eye,  and  turned  to  a  lovely  purple  flower,  that 
took  root  and  grew  out  of  the  deck. 

"  I  suppose  you  could  weep  a  garden  if  you  tried," 
said  Johnny ;  "  but  please  do  not  try,  unless  you  can 
weep  strawberries.  How  long  do  you  think  it  will 
take  us  to  reach  the  moon  ?" 

"We  shall  be  in  the  moon  by  9.27  A.M.  to-morrow," 
replied  the  Squirrel. 

"  I  fancied  we  were  getting  near  it,"  said  Johnny, 
"  for  now  the  earth,  silvered  by  the  moon,  looks  like 
a  two-grain  quinine  pill  bobbing  about  there  in  the 
darkness." 

They  all  looked  over,  and,  sure  enough,  there  was 
the  earth  scarcely  discernible,  and  every  moment  the 


" '  WHY  DON'T  YOU  GO  AHEAD  ?'  ASKED  THE  OWL." 

pearly  boat  was  drifting  away  from  it,  the  crimson 
sail  idly  flapping  on  the  mast  of  ivory.  Whether  at 
that  time  they  were  over  Africa  or  China  they  could 
not  tell,  and  after  some  speculation  as  to  their  posi- 


36  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

tion,  they  thought  it  prudent  to  follow  the  hint  given 
in  the  final  stanza  of  "  The  Romaunt  of  the  Higglede- 
piggiddy  and  the  Sensitive  Baraboo." 

So  the  three  descended  to  the  cabin ;  and  a  most 
lovely  cabin  it  was.  Johnny  and  the  Owl  could  scarcely 
believe  their  eyes  when  they  saw  all  its  beauties  un- 
folded before  them.  It  seemed  simply  absurd  to  them 
to  imagine  that  their  beautiful  air-ship  of  pearl  could 
have  once  been  a  plain  tawny  pumpkin,  and  later  a 
carriage  and  horses.  Although  the  carriage  and  horses 
were  beautiful  in  every  respect,  they  were  not  to  be 
compared  for  loveliness  to  the  dainty  vessel  that  was 
bearing  them  to  Moonland,  while  it  floated  through 
the  ripples  of  the  great  white  orb  as  gracefully  as  an 
iridescent  bubble.  The  furniture  of  the  cabin  was 
made  entirely  of  pearl,  and  every  light  was  a  moon  in 
miniature,  and  each  little  moon  circled  about  in  a 
minute  orbit  just  above  a  fountain  that  was  lovely  in 
a  continuous  spirtle  of  stars.  Of  course  the  cabin  was 
flooded  with  the  most  delicate  light,  and  this  light  was 
sifted  through  the  finest  of  silken  draperies — draperies 
so  fine  that  they  seemed  made  of  cloud  gossamer  as 
they  gently  swayed  in  the  opalescent  glow. 

"  You  can  now  imagine  what  I  have  suffered,"  said 
the  Squirrel,  "  when  you  consider  what  I  have  to  make 
me  happy,  and  then  reflect  that  for  purloining  the 
nuts  from  a  cake  I  have  been  compelled  to  be  a  squirrel 
and  live  on  nuts  for  months.  I  don't  believe  I  shall 
ever  be  able  to  look  upon  a  cake  again  without  a 
shudder,  and  as  for  essaying  to  partake  of  any,  I  should 
be  so  afraid  that  it  might  contain  a  forbidden  nut  that 
I  should  no  more  think  of  eating  it  than  I  should  now 
think  of  flying,  when  I  am  not  a  flying-squirrel.  Just 
listen  I" 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  37 

When  the  Squirrel  paused  the  cabin  was  filled  with 
gentlest  music  that  floated  about  as  mysteriously  as 
the  light  itself.  When  it  played  an  imitation  of  the 
wind  rippling  through  the  trees  in  spring,  the  scent  of 
blossoms  filled  the  air,  and  the  minstrelsy  of  birds  ran 
through  it  in  the  most  delightful  manner.  And  then 
it  would  play  the  music  of  autumn,  and  permeate  the 
symphony  with  the  delicious  wood  scents  peculiar  to 
that  dreamy  season.  The  murmur  of  the  sea  lent  its 
subtle  influence,  and  the  rustle  of  reeds  was  to  be  dis- 
tinctly heard ;  and  it  changed  from  one  to  the  other, 
and  varied  the  changes  until  the  place  was  enchanted. 
And  while  this  dulcet  spell  was  thrown  over  them, 
they  drifted  off  to  a  less  beautiful  dream-land,  out  of 
which  they  were  to  awake  in  the  snowy  bowers  of  the 
moon. 


IV 


WHEN  the  light  of  morning  dawned,  the  Squirrel, 
Johnny,  and  the  Owl  awoke,  feeling  greatly  refreshed 
by  their  night's  rest  in  the  luxurious  moon  ship.  But 
the  Owl  and  Johnny  were  as  greatly  surprised  as  they 
were  refreshed  to  find  that  they  were  not  in  the  boat 
at  all,  but  back  in  the  Cinderella  carriage,  being  drawn 
rapidly  over  a  silvery  moon  road  to  the  palace  of  the 
Squirrel's  father,  King  Silversmith  the  Tenth. 

The  road  was  snow  white,  and  the  dust  was  like  the 
finest  flour.  The  Squirrel  was  as  happy  as  a  King, 
though  in  reality  but  a  Prince.  Johnny  was  not  so 
happy,  however,  on  account  of  the  blinding  glare  of 
everything  with  which  his  vision  came  in  contact. 

"Don't  you  find  this  glare  blinding?"  asked  Johnny. 

"  Not  at  all,"  replied  the  Owl—"  not  at  all.  To  me 
it's  as  soft  as  a  June  landscape,  because  my  eyes  are 
green." 

The  Squirrel  was  greatly  amused  at  this,  but  Johnny 
said  nothing,  and  they  drove  along  for  some  miles,  the 
Squirrel  probably  being  too  happy  at  returning  to  his 
home,  and  Johnny  and  the  Owl  being  too  much  over- 
come by  the  surrounding  marvels  and  the  novelty  of 
all  about  them  to  indulge  very  freely  in  conversation. 
Up  hill  and  down  dale  they  went  over  the  pearly  roads, 
until  they  discerned  in  the  dim  distance  a  great  white 
tower — the  tower  of  the  magnificent  palace  of  Silver- 
smith the  Tenth. 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  39 

"  There  may  be  no  such  thing  as  an  Arabian 
night,"  said  Johnny,  "  but  this  truly  seems  an  Arabian 
day." 

And  the  Squirrel  involuntarily  burst  forth : 

"  Silver  meadow,  silver  flower, 

Silver  winding  stream, 
Silver  lily  on  the  silver, 

In  a  silver  dream ; 
Silver  maples,  silver  birches, 

In  a  silver  spray, 
Silver  birds  sing  silver  lyrics 

All  the  silver  day." 

It  was  a  lovely  prospect.  As  the  Squirrel  intimated 
in  his  song,  each  object  seemed  to  be  of  silver  and 
pearl.  It  was  quite  as  white  as  the  earth  is  green,  and 
there  was  not  a  bit  of  view  along  the  way  that  had  not 
some  peculiar  charm  of  its  own.  There  was  no  such 
thing  as  monotony,  aside  from  the  whiteness  that 
characterized  almost  everything.  On  and  on  they 
went,  and  nearer  and  nearer  the  palace  appeared,  until 
finally,  when  they  least  expected  it,  the  little  carriage 
whirled  around  a  sudden  bend  in  the  road  and  shot 
under  a  large  archway,  and  in  another  instant  was  in 
front  of  the  palace. 

Silversmith  the  Tenth  stood  at  the  bottom  step  of 
the  great  edifice,  surrounded  by  Roseflake,  the  lovely 
Princess  whose  cake  the  Squirrel  had  rifled  of  its  nuts, 
and  all  the  courtiers.  As  soon  as  the  carriage  stopped, 
the  Squirrel  jumped  out  upon  the  palace  steps,  and 
when  he  alighted  on  the  same  he  was  changed  back  to 
Flowerbell,  the  Moon  Prince.  Johnny  and  the  Owl 
could  scarcely  realize  that  the  Prince  in  the  white  silk 
mantle,  over  which  a  great  mass  of  shimmering  golden 


40  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

curls  fell  in  wild  profusion,  was  the  gray  squirrel  with 
whom  they  had  been  travelling. 

Flowerbell  rushed  to  the  embrace  of  Silversmith  the 
Tenth,  and  vowed  that  he  would  never  eat  nut -cake 
again.  Koseflakc  forgave  him  for  having  purloined 
the  nuts — even  the  magic  Brazil-nut — from  the  great 
cake  that  was  intended  as  the  crowning  triumph  of  her 
party. 

Johnny  and  the  Owl  were  welcomed,  especially  the 
Owl,  whose  ancestors  belonged  in  the  moon,  and  flour- 
ished in  it  until  exiled  by  Moonshine  the  Seventh,  as 
related  in  a  former  chapter.  The  King  never  supposed 
the  moon  would  know  another  owl,  and  he  was  very 
profuse  in  his  thanks  to  Flowerbell  for  having  the 
forethought  to  invite  a  specimen  to  accompany  him 
home. 

But  the  fairies  could  not  understand  Johnny.  He 
seemed  as  queer  in  their  eyes  as  they  did  in  his.  Be- 
fore seeing  him  they  had  only  read  of  human  beings, 
but  did  not  believe  they  really  existed.  When  they 
became  acquainted  with  him,  the  fairies  taxed  him 
with  all  kinds  of  questions  relative  to  what  they  called 
earth  life,  and  had  him  relate  various  experiences,  all 
of  which  they  enjoyed,  but  none  of  which  they  be- 
lieved. For  instance,  they  did  not  believe  that  it  re- 
quired a  whole  summer  to  ripen  an  apple  on  earth. 
They  really  believed  that  the  earth  tree  could  be  touch- 
ed by  a  wand  like  a  fairy  moon  tree,  and  the  apples 
caused  to  appear  at  once  fully  ripe. 

At  table  Johnny  was  greatly  annoyed  because  the 
fairies  stared  at  him  so  much,  and  regarded  him  as 
something  supernatural. 

But  when  he  complained  to  Flowerbell,  that  merry 
little  Prince  threatened  to  have  them  turned  into  soup- 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  43 

plates  "without  being  deprived  of  their  sense  of  feel- 
ing. When  they  heard  this  threat  and  thought  of 
the  hot  soup,  and  the  man  who  had  been  turned  into 
a  pair  of  nut -crackers,  they  promised  not  to  regard 
Johnny  as  anything  more  than  an  ordinary  rational 
fairy. 

"  I  will  look  out  for  you,  Johnny,"  said  Flowerbell. 
"  They  probably  don't  like  you  because  you  are  my 
playmate.  Would  you  like  to  come  and  see  my  fa- 
ther's library  ?" 

"  Indeed  I  should  like  to  very  much !" 

"  Well,  follow  me." 

Johnny  followed,  and  after  passing  through  various 
halls  they  entered  the  sumptuous  library  of  Silversmith 
the  Tenth.  The  Librarian  was  sitting  in  front  of  the 
grandest  fireplace  Johnny  ever  saw,  smoking  ciga- 
rettes, and  blowing  the  smoke  from  his  eyes  in  the 
dreamiest  manner. 

A  dog  lying  on  a  rug  arose,  stretched  himself,  and 
said,  "fionjour  /" 

Then  he  left  the  room,  and  Johnny  not  knowing 
what  to  make  of  it,  Flowerbell  said,  "  That  is  the 
French  Poodle  that  cannot  speak  English." 

And  then  the  Librarian  blew  a  greater  cloud  of 
smoke  than  before  through  his  eyes  and  sang : 


"  Ash— Bol— Bol— Car— 
Car— Cod— Code— Dem- 
Dem — Eye — Eve — Gla — 
Tra,  la,  la,  la,  la ! 

"  Gla— Hor—Hor— Kin- 
Kin — Mag — Mag — Mot — 
Mot— Pal— Pal— Pri— 
Ha,  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha !" 


44 


THE    MOON    PRINCE 


Then  he  blew  another  great  clond  of  smoke  from 
his  eyes,  and  laughed  with  great  gusto. 

"  What  in  the  world  has  he  been  reciting  ?"  asked 
Johnny. 

"  Nothing,"  answered  Flowerbell,  in  reply  to  John- 
ny's question, "  but  the 
syllables  on  the  backs 
of  some  of  the  volumes 
of  the  encyclopaedia — 
the  syllables  that  indi- 
cate the  contents." 

The  Librarian  smiled, 
and  again  broke  into  a 
violent  laugh,  at  which 
moment  his  sombre 
garments  turned  into 
light  gay  colors,  and 
all  over  them  appeared 
queer  funny  charac- 
ters, something  like 
those  on  a  Japanese 
fan. 

"  His  clothing  indi- 
cates his  state  of  mind," 
explained  Flowerbell. 
"  When  he  is  in  a  sad, 
reflective  condition, 
his  clothing  is  black. 
When  he  is  in  a  dreamy 

frame,  his  garments  are  lit  up  by  a  delicate  landscape, 
with  cloud  ships  in  the  airy  distance,  and  butterflies 
tilting  on  crimson  flower  bells,  etc.  But  when  he  is  in 
a  funny  mood —  But  he  is  in  a  funny  mood  now,  and 
you  may  see  for  yourself." 


THE    LIBRARIAN. 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  45 

Johnny  looked,  and  was  greatly  astonished  to  see  a 
Chinese  clown  running  downhill  on  a  barrel,  while 
fanning  himself  with  a  flock  of  doves  with  one  hand, 
and  throwing  soap  circulars  about  with  the  other. 
Running  across  from  waistcoat -pocket  to  waistcoat- 
pocket  was  a  suspended  string  of  sausages.  And  out 
of  one  pocket  a  little  man  popped,  and  ran  across  on 
the  sausage  string  and  disappeared  in  the  other. 

"  Why  does  not  he  come  out  again  ?"  asked 
Johnny. 

"  Because  he  is  asleep,"  answered  the  Librarian, 
curtly. 

His  cigarette  went  out,  and  his  displeasure  caused 
his  garments  to  resume  their  usual  sombre  tone. 

"  What  are  those  little  men  on  the  shelf  ?"  asked 
Johnny,  his  curiosity  getting  the  better  of  him. 

"  Those  are  the  story  manikins,"  replied  the  Prince. 
"  They  serve  for  books.  Instead  of  reading,  as  you 
earth  people  do,  we  have  little  men  that  tell  us  stories. 
Would  you  like  to  hear  one  of  them  recite  a  little  poem 
- — a  favorite  of  mine  ?" 

Johnny  said  he  would  be  only  too  happy  to  hear  the 
poem. 

"  Let's  have  Almanac  Bland,"  said  the  Prince  ;  "  the 
man  that  tells  the  seasons  with  his  whiskers  and  hair." 

The  Librarian  took  down  one  of  the  little  men,  and 
stood  him  on  the  table.  When  the  spring  by  which  he 
was  wound  up  had  been  touched,  he  commenced: 

ALMANAC  BLAND. 

"  What  a  curious  mortal  is  Almanac  Bland, 

E'er  so  peaceful  and  calm  and  Rerene ! 
In  the  spring,  when  the  flowers  empurple  the  land, 
Both  his  hair  and  his  whiskers  are  green. 


46  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

"When  the  poppy's  aflame  in  the  wind-rippled  wheat, 

And  the  sunflowers  gayly  unfold, 

Then  his  hair  and  his  whiskers  grow  down  to  his  feet 
In  a  tangle  of  shimmering  gold. 

"  When  the  soft  zephyr  strays  through  the  corn,  yellow  turned, 

And  the  bee  and  the  robin  have  fled, 
Then  his  whiskers  are  into  a  deep  russet  burned, 
And  his  hair  to  mahogany  red. 

"But  whene'er  the  bleak  winter  moans  over  the  plain, 

And  the  snow  scurries  on  in  its  flight, 
Then  his  hair  and  his  whiskers,  transmuted  again, 
Blow  a  delicate  lilyful  white." 

Then  the  manikin  bowed,  and  was  put  back  in  his 
place. 

"  Now,"  said  the  Prince,  "  let's  have  '  The  Adopted 
Nephew  of  the  Sage-green  Elephant  with  the  Glass 
Eye.' " 

"  Can't  do  it,  I'm  sorry  to  say,"  replied  the  Librarian. 
"  The  manikin  that  tells  the  story  of  '  The  Adopted 
Nephew  of  the  Sage-green  Elephant  with  the  Glass 
Eye '  had  his  main-spring  broken  yesterday  while  pro- 
nouncing the  word  '  pterodactyl.'  He  is  now  being 
repaired,  and  the  word  'pterodactyl'  is  going  to  be 
eliminated  from  the  story." 

"  I  believe,"  soliloquized  Johnny,  "  that  this  is  all  a 
dream.  I  think  I  am  now  at  home  in  Vermont  fast 
asleep  on  my  corn -husk  mattress,  and  that  before  I 
know  it  I  shall  wake  up  and  have  to  go  down-stairs 
and  study  my  lessons." 

He  did  not  awake,  however,  but  continued  to  walk 
about  the  library  with  Flowerbell,  who  promised  that 
on  the  first  rainy  day  he  might  hear  all  the  stories  that 
the  manikins  could  tell.  There  were  several  hundred 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  47 

of  these  manikins  classified  according  to  their  style  of 
story,  so  Johnny  looked  forward  with  great  delight  to 
the  first  rainy  day. 

Just  at  this  juncture  the  King,  Silversmith  the  Tenth, 
rushed  violently  into  the  library,  and  fell  into  a  chair 
in  a  great  state  of  fright. 

"  Beat  them  off  !    Beat  them  off  !"  shouted  the  King. 

"  Beat  what  off  ?"  asked  the  Librarian. 

"  The  white  moon  bears  !"  shouted  the  King.  "  Don't 
you  see  them  ?" 

"  Oh  yes  !"  said  the  Librarian.  And  with  that  he 
picked  up  a  poker,  and  commenced  beating  the  air 
violently.  "That  is  the  last  of  those  white  moon 
bears." 

The  King  was  profuse  in  his  thanks,  and  as  a  rec- 
ognition of  the  Librarian's  services  turned  his  empty 
pocket-book  into  one  full  of  coins. 

"  I  didn't  see  any  bears,"  said  Johnny. 

"  They're  imaginary  bears,"  explained  Flowerbell. 
"The  King  has  a  very  powerful  imagination — so  power- 
ful, in  fact,  that  when  he  imagines  a  thing  it  is  to  him 
a  reality.  It  would  not  be  well  for  us  if  we  were  to 
tell  him  there  were  no  bears.  The  Librarian  knows 
there  was  none  as  well  as  we ;  yet,  like  a  faithful  serv- 
ant, he  set  to  work  and  went  through  the  act  of  kill- 
ing two  specimens,  just  to  satisfy  the  King  that  he 
was  not  laboring  under  a  mistake  when  he  was.  In 
all  probability  the  King  was  simply  thinking  that  he 
would  like  some  bear  steaks  for  dinner,  when  the  steaks 
grew,  in  his  imagination,  to  bears,  who  pursued  him 
with  a  spirit  of  vengeance.  It  is  a  terrible  malady,  and 
the  only  one  that  tends  to  make  Silversmith  the  Tenth 
at  all  unhappy  or  dissatisfied  with  his  lot.  On  one  oc 
casion  he  imagined  he  was  a  rabbit,  and  insisted  on 


48 


THE    MOON    PRINCE 


blinking,  and  twisting  his  nose  incessantly.  He  would 
do  this  at  table,  and  sometimes  make  the  servants 
laugh.  One  servant  manifested  such  a  keen  apprecia- 
tion of  the  humor  of  the  situation  that  he  is  now  act- 
ing in  the  capacity  of  a  kitchen  pot.  The  King  makes 
it  a  point  to  have  all  the  rabbits  cooked  in  this  pot, 
and  the  pot,  being  endowed  with  a  knowledge  of  its 
fate,  simply  boils  at  the  sight  of  a  rabbit.  Not  the 
least  painful  feature  of  that  hallucination  of  Silver- 
smith the  Tenth  lay  in  the  fact  that  he  insisted  upon 


KING   SILVERSMITH   AS    A    RABBIT. 

being  carried  about  by  the  ears.  Now  fancy  a  couple 
of  servants,  each  holding  an  ear,  carrying  the  King 
about." 

"  Flowerbell,"  said  the  King,  pleasantly,  for  the  de- 
struction of  the  bears  made  him  good-natured,  "  I  can- 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  49 

not  express  to  you  the  keen  pleasure  I  feel  every  time 
I  reflect  upon  the  fact  that  you  have  brought  the  Owl 
back  to  the  moon.  It  is  many  years  since  the  moon 
has  seen  an  owl,  and  many  of  our  people  regard  this 
bird  as  a  myth.  The  owl  was  originally  white — moon 
white — but  the  earth  turned  it  brown.  The  light  of 
the  moon  is  its  proper  tone,  if  you  can  call  that  a  tone. 
Now  to-morrow  night  I  am  going  to  give  a  ball  in  honor 
of  the  Owl's  return,  and  on  that  occasion  this  bird,  dear 
to  my  heart,  as  a  lover  and  patriot  of  the  moon,  shall 
assume  his  original  mooney  glow — " 

"  Mooney  is  an  Irish  surname,  and  might  be  mis- 
leading," broke  in  the  Prince.  "I  think  moon -glow 
sounds  better." 

"  Moon-glow  it  is,  then,"  said  Silversmith,  smiling. 
"The  Owl  shall  assume  the  moon -glow  of  his  ances- 
tors." 

"  But  we  must  not  have  a  cake  with  nuts  in  it !"  ex- 
claimed the  Prince. 

"  No,"  replied  the  King ;  "  but  one  thing  we  must 
make  an  entree  of  is  that  tender  little  musk -sheep 
down  in  the  meadow,  where —  Oh,  oh,  the  room  is 
full  of  musk-sheep  trying  to  butt  me  to  death  !"  roared 
the  King.  "  Musk-sheep  on  the  piano,  under  the  piano, 
rushing  in  the  door-way,  and  jumping  down  the  chim- 
ney. Kill  them  !  kill  them  !" 

The  King  ran  this  way  and  that,  and  made  desperate 
lunges  and  kicks  at  the  musk -sheep  that  were  trying 
to  do  him  to  death. 

Finally  the  cooks  rushed  in  with  knives,  and  made 
motions  as  though  grabbing  the  sheep  and  killing  them. 
They  worked  away  for  something  like  twenty  minutes, 
killing  off  these  imaginary  sheep,  and  when  they  were 
through,  they  said : 


50  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

"  We  are  glad  that  we  arrived  just  in  time." 
"  Take  the  carcasses  out,"  said  the  King,  "  and  give 
all  but  one  bear  and  one  musk-sheep  to  the  poor,  and 
those  two  serve  up  in  your  very  best  style  for  the  grand 
ball  to  be  given  to-morrow  night  in  honor  of  the  Owl's 
return  to  the  moon." 


FLOWERBELL  motioned  to  Johnny  to  follow  him  out 
into  the  garden,  .and  when  there  suggested  that  they 
keep  away  from  Silversmith  the  Tenth  for  a  while, 
and  allow  him  to  get  over  his  fright  caused  by  the 
imaginary  musk-sheep : 

"  Because  you  cannot  tell  what  might  happen.  If 
I  had  only  kept  out  of  his  way  after  taking  the  nuts 
from  Roseflake's  cake,  I  don't  for  a  moment  believe 
he  would  have  turned  me  into  a  squirrel  and  sent  me 
to  the  earth  for  six  months.  It  would  be  dishearten- 
ing if  he  were  to  serve  us  in  some  such  fashion  just 
as  a  grand  feast  and  ball  are  to  be  given  in  honor  of 
the  Owl ;  so  we  had  better  keep  a  little  farther  from 
the  palace  and  avoid  danger." 

Johnny  agreed  that  this  would  be  the  best  plan  to 
pursue,  and  they  wandered  through  a  mass  of  shrub- 
bery until  they  reached  the  lower  end  of  the  garden. 
At  this  part  of  the  garden  there  was  a  great  bed  of 
cabbages,  and  each  cabbage  had  on  a  high  white  hat. 
Some  of  them  were  red,  some  were  green,  and  one  tall 
one  in  the  centre  was  a  rich  purple.  As  they  ap- 
proached, all  the  cabbages  raised  their  hats  politely. 

"  That  is  about  the  strangest  thing  I  have  yet  seen 
in  Moonland !"  said  Johnny,  in  a  startled  manner. 
"  What  do  they  mean  ?" 

"  They  are  simply  a  lot  of  polite  cabbages,"  replied 


52  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

Flowerbell;  "they  always  raise  their  hats.  That 
big  purple  fellow  over  there  is  the  Cabbage  King, 
and  he  is  now  waiting  for  me  to  ask  him  who  he  is, 
in  order  that  he  may  sing  his  song  in  reply.  He  sings 
the  song,  and  the  other  cabbages,  his  subjects,  sing 
the  chorus." 

"  Is  it  a  good  song  ?"  asked  Johnny. 

"  The  first  time  you  hear  it,  it  is  pretty  good,"  re- 
plied Flowerbell ;  "  but  when  you  have  heard  it  as 
frequently  as  I  have  it  seems  to  lose  its  piquancy." 

"  But  I  have  never  heard  it,"  said  Johnny  ;  "  and 
as  you  say  it  is  good  the  first  time,  I  should  like  to 
hear  it  very  much.  Can  you  stand  it  again  ?" 

"  I  am  not  positive,"  murmured  Flowerbell,  re- 
flectively, "but  I'll  try,  if  you  would  hear  the 
song." 

Then  he  turned  and  faced  the  polite  cabbages, 
every  one  of  which  raised  its  hat  and  seemed  to  be  en- 
deavoring to  lapse  into  a  pleasant  smile.  As  they 
raised  their  hats,  Flowerbell  looked  at  the  King,  and 
asked,  rather  sharply, 

"  Who  are  you  anyhow  ?" 

And  the  Cabbage  King  raised  himself  an  inch 
higher  and  removed  his  high  hat — an  extra  high  one, 
which  was  his  crown — and  sang : 

OLD    KING   CABBAGE. 

"  I'm  King  of  the  cabbages  green ; 

I'm  King  of  the  cabbages  red ; 
I'm  a  purple  cabbage  of  royal  mien, 

With  a  sensible  level  head. 
All  my  subjects  I  hold  most  dear, 

They  respect  my  power  and  might, 
And  unto  all  persons  that  venture  near 

We're  considerate  and  polite. 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  55 

Chorus — "  We're  a  lot  of  cabbages,  one  and  all ; 

We're  very  polite,  and  that's 
The  reason  that  we,  unto  great  and  small, 
Prefer  to  remove  our  hats — 
Our  hats,  our  hats,  our  hats,  our  hats — 
Prefer  to  remove  our  hats." 

"From  the  nightfall  ifnto  the  morn, 

By  my  cabbages  green  and  red, 
A  soothing  and  sensible  hat  is  worn 

To  prevent  a  cold  in  the  head ; 
And  through  having  to  wear  a  hat, 

That  our  health  may  continue  right, 
We  raise  it  to  every  person  that 

We  be  known  as  very  polite. 

Chorus — "  We're  a  lot  of  cabbages,  one  and  all ; 

We're  very  polite,  and  that's 
The  reason  that  we,  unto  great  and  small, 
Prefer  to  remove  our  hats — 
Our  hats,  our  hats,  our  hats,  our  hats — 
Prefer  to  remove  our  hats." 

"But  I'm  filled  with  a  secret  grief, 

And  in  spite  of  myself  I  shout: 
May  I  ne'er  be  boiled  with  the  red  corned-beef, 

Or  be  made  into  sauer-kraut; 
May  I  not  in  the  form  of  slaws 

Any  epicure's  fork  invite. 
My  delicate  sorrow  is  all  because 

I'm  so  sensitive  and  polite. 

Chorus — "  We're  a  lot  of  cabbages,  one  and  all ; 

We're  very  polite,  and  that's 
The  reason  that  we,  unto  great  and  small, 
Prefer  to  remove  our  hats — 
Our  hats,  our  hats,  our  hats,  our  hats — 
Prefer  to  remove  our  hats." 

"  Indeed  that  is  a  very  lively  song,  and  I  am  not  a 


56  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

little  surprised  to  hear  anything  of  the  kind  from  a 
cabbage,"  said  Johnny,  with  solemn  deliberation. 

"  Yes,"  responded  Flowerbell,  not  a  little  overcome 
at  his  playmate's  expression  of  wonder ;  "  it  is  not  so 
bad  for  a  cabbage,  especially  when  you  first  hear  it ; 
but  I  can  tell  you  the  Cabbage  King  is  as  vain  as  po- 
lite. Now  I  am  going  to  humor  him."  So  Flowerbell 
looked  at  the  Cabbage  King  and  shouted : 

"  Who  are  you  ?  who  are  you  ? 
Who  are  you  ?  who  are  you, 

Pray? 

Who  are  you  ?  who  are  you  ? 

Who  are  you  ?  who  are  you, 

Eh?" 

"  What  does  all  that  mean  ?"  asked  Johnny. 

"  It  means,"  responded  Flowerbell,  with  a  smile  that 
made  manifest  his  keen  sense  of  the  ridiculous,  "  that 
the  Cabbage  King  sings  that  song  every  time  he  is 
asked  who  he  is,  and  he  enjoys  it,  too,  I  can  assure 
you.  He  can  now  enjoy  himself  singing  it  eight 
times." 

This  statement  struck  Johnny  as  being  very  funny, 
and  wishing  to  satisfy  himself  that  Flowerbell  was  not 
chaffing  him,  he  watched  his  chance  and  looked 
around,  and,  sure  enough,  the  cabbages  were  doffing 
their  hats  in  the  most  polite  fashion,  while  the 
chorus  could  be  distinctly  heard  where  they  were 
standing. 

The  moon  garden  was  a  beautiful  bower  of  fragrance 
and  airy  rest.  It  was  only  a  garden  in  name,  how- 
ever, because  it  covered  several  miles  of  moon.  The 
gradual  slopes  and  the  murmurous  valleys  seemed  as 
though  made  to  wander  and  dream  in,  and  as  Flower- 
bell  and  Johnny  roved  along,  the  latter  said  : 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  57 

"  I  do  miss  the  Owl  so  much !  Suppose  we  go 
back  and  hunt  him  up." 

"  The  Owl  is  all  right,  Johnny,"  replied  Flowerbell, 
as  he  cut  the  air  with  a  wand  and  severed  a  lily  from 
its  stem — "  the  Owl  is  all  right.  He  is  being  fed  on 
sweetmeats  to  turn  his  feathers  white  and  make  him 
like  the  original  moon  owl.  You  will  be  surprised 
when  you  see  him  at  the  ball  to-morrow  night.  You 
will  see  that  instead  of  being  melancholy  and  wise,  he 
will  be  melancholy  and  funny.  And  after  the  ball  is 
over,  you  know  the  King  gives  a  picnic,  in  honor  of 
my  return,  on  the  banks  of  the  Molasses  River." 

"  Look  there  !"  exclaimed  Johnny,  in  great  surprise. 

As  they  looked,  they  saw  the  lily  that  Flowerbell 
had  cut  from  its  stem  floating  about  in  the  air  like 
a  bird. 

"That  is  nothing,"  Flowerbell  explained,  with  a 
smile.  "  It  is  simply  waiting  for  a  stem  to  grow  out 
of  it,  and  descend  and  take  root  in  the  ground.  Do 
you  see  those  tea-biscuits  over  there  rustling  in  undu- 
late beauty  ?" 

"  No,  I  do  not,"  responded  Johnny,  "  and  I  don't 
believe  that  tea-biscuits  can  rustle,  either.  I  see  a 
field  of  wheat  over  in  the  direction  in  which  you  point, 
but  I  don't  see  any  tea-biscuits." 

"  The  wheat  in  the  moon  grows  on  the  potato  prin- 
ciple," Flowerbell  explained.  "You  pull  up  a  few 
wands  of  wheat,  and  you  find  the  tea-biscuits  on  the 
roots.  See  here." 

Flowerbell  then  pulled  up  a  handful  of  wheat,  and 
the  roots  were  full  of  the  most  delicious  tea-biscuits 
Johnny  ever  tasted.  It  was  then  made  clear  to  him 
that  a  peculiar  warmth  in  the  moon  mould  not  only 
rounded  all  vegetables  to  a  beautiful  perfection,  but 


58 


THE    MOON    PRINCE 


afterwards  cooked  and  preserved  them.  No  moon 
farmer  ever  dreamed  of  garnering  his  crops  until  they 
were  cooked,  and  many  did  not  take  them  in  at  that 
time,  preferring  to  allow  them  to  remain  until  wanted 
in  a  state  of  peerless  preservation. 

"When  the  asparagus  pops  out  of  the  ground," 
said  a  farmer  who  overheard  the  conversation,  "it  is 
ready  to  eat,  like  an  earth  apple.  We  have  fields  of 
stewed  and  fried  potatoes,  and  even  our  poultry  and 
sheep  are  cooked  for  us  just  before  they  reach  that 
age  when  nature  toughens  them.  It  is  very  pleasant 
to  be  able  to  step  out  and  pluck  sweet-corn  just  hot 
enough  to  be  delicious,  and  all  garnished  with  butter 
and  pepper  and  salt.  I  never  feel  the  independence 
of  the  farmer  so  keenly  as  at  the  time  I  see  my  roasted 
ducks  swimming  about  in  the  gravy  pond  at  the  foot 
of  the  hill.  There  is  one  of  my  roasted  pigs  over  there 
hoeing  the  hills  of  beans." 

As  the  Farmer  paused,  the  pig  came  closer.  He  was 
a  polka-dotted  specimen,  and  had  on  a  large  straw  hat 


POHK   AND    BKANS. 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  59 

and  eye-glasses.     He  hoed  away  to  the  time  of  a  live- 
ly song,  which  ran  as  follows  : 

THE    AGRICULTURAL    PIG. 

"I'm  an  agricultural  pig, 

And  I  love  these  quiet  scenes, 
Where  I  frequently  dance  a  jig 

While  hoeing  the  blooming  beans. 
My  heart  is  as  light  as  a  cork 

Among  my  favorite  greens, 
For  I  am  the  pork,  pork,  pork, 

And  they  are  the  beans,  beans,  beans. 
In  all  kinds  of  weather 
We're  happy  together, 
For  we  are  the  pork  and  the  beans." 

Chorus  by  the  beans. 

"Oh,  we  are  the  beans,  beans,  beans! 

And  he  is  the  pork,  pork,  pork ! 
And  we  have  no  horror  of  soup  tureens, 
The  spoon  or  the  knife  and  fork." 

"  I'm  a  rapturous  Roasted  Pig, 

And  my  rapture  simply  means 
I'm  contented  to  hoe  and  dig 
Among  these  delicate  beans. 
Oh,  I  hop  like  the  slender  stork, 

While  my  hoe  the  weedlet  gleans ; 
Oh,  I  am  the  pork,  pork,  pork ! 
And  they  are  the  beans,  beans,  beans. 
In  all  kinds  of  weather 
We're  happy  together, 
For  we  are  the  pork  and  beans." 

Chorus  by  the  beans. 

"  Oh,  we  are  the  beans,  beans,  beans ! 

And  he  is  the  pork,  pork,  pork ! 
And  we  have  no  horror  of  soup  tureens, 
The  spoon  or  the  knife  and  fork." 


60  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

"  That  is  a  very  clever  song,"  said  Flowerbell,  with  a 
smile.  "  It  is  exceedingly  clever  and  well  turned,  and 
I  think  you  should  be  encouraged.  Would  you  like 
to  go  to  the  Owl's  ball  to-morrow  night  ?" 

"  Whv,  there  hasn't  been  an  owl  in  the  moon,"  re- 
plied the  Roasted  Pig,  "  since  Moonshine  the  Seventh 
exiled  the  whole  race  because  a  facetious  member  en- 
deavored— by  way  of  a  joke,  be  it  said — to  sell  him  a 
phial  of  hair-curling  fluid,  when  he,  Moonshine  the 
Seventh,  had  not  a  hair  on  his  head.  You  must  have 
read  the  history  of  the  moon,  surely  !" 

"  I  have,"  replied  the  Moon  Prince  ;  "  but  I  recently 
visited  the  earth,  and  met  an  owl,  who,  for  all  I  know 
to  the  contrary,  may  be  a  lineal  descendant  of  the  very 
perpetrator  of  the  hair-curling  jest.  It  was  decreed  at 
the  time  the  owls  were  exiled  that  no  one  should — " 

"  I  know  the  whole  story  quite  well,"  broke  in  the 
Roasted  Pig.  "Excuse  me  for  my  seeming  rudeness 
in  interrupting  you,  but  the  incident  is  set  forth  at 
considerable  length  in  Mooney's  Moon,  Vol.  XIV., 
page  117." 

"  Now,  then,  I  want  you  to  answer  my  question 
— would  you  like  to  go  to  the  Owl's  ball  to-morrow 
night?" 

"  Very  much  indeed — thanks,"  replied  the  Roasted 
Pig,  removing  his  hat,  and  carefully  wiping  his  eye- 
glasses ;  "  nothing  could  afford  me  higher  pleasure." 

"  Why,  what  a  very  polite  pig  !"  said  Johnny.  "  I 
never  saw  such  manners  before ;  and  he  has  a  com- 
pany voice,  too.  Was  he  this  way  before  he  was 
cooked  ?" 

"  I  presume  he  must  have  been,"  Flowerbell  replied, 
"because  I  don't  think  such  a  style  could  be  ac- 
quired." 


THE    MOON    PRINCE 


61 


"  Why,  he  is  fit  to  go  to  dancing-school,"  suggest- 
ed Johnny,  thoughtfully ;  "  and  speaking  of  dancing,  I 
wish  it  were  now  time  for  the  Owl's  ball." 


THE   ROASTED    PIG    AND    HIS    WISH-HORSE. 

Just  then  Johnny  found  himself  sitting  on  the  back 
of  a  beautiful  moon  horse. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?"  he  asked. 

"Simply,"  replied  the  Moon  Prince,  "that  in  this 
land,  which  strikes  you  as  being  so  queer — though  it 
is  not  in  reality  as  strange  as  the  earth — wishes  are 
horses.  You  wished  it  time  for  the  Owl's  ball,  and 
there's  the  regulation  horse." 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  the  Roasted  Pig, "  but  I  must  not 
neglect  my  beans.  I  wish  you  good-day."  As  soon 


62 


THE    MOON    PRINCE 


as  he  concluded  with  "  I  wish  you  good-day,"  another 
horse  capered  away  over  the  farm,  with  the  Roasted 
Pig  on  his  back. 

"  I  suppose  I  must  ride,  too  ?"  said  Johnny. 
"  You  must,"  responded  the  Moon  Prince. 
"  But  I  don't  know  how  to  ride.      Now  how  can  I 
ride  if  I  don't  know  how  to  ?" 

"  The  best  way  you  can,"  said  Flowerbell.  "  You 
must  learn  not  to  wish.  We  are  all  supposed  to  be  so 
happy  here  that  wishing  is  superfluous." 

"  I  wish  that  wishes  were  rocking-horses,"  Johnny 
observed,  as  he  clung  to  the  mane  of  his  steed,  "  for 
then  I  should  be  at  least  able  to  stick  on.  But  who  is 
this  strange  creature  walking  past  those  silvery  ja- 

ponicas  ?" 

Before  the  Moon 
Prince  could  tell  him 
that  the  curious 
person  approaching 
was  Tumpty  Turn 
the  Rhymer,  Johnny 
found  himself  stand- 
ing on  two  horses, 
the  second  one  being 
his  wish  that  wishes 
were  hobby-horses. 

"And  who  is 
Tumpty  Turn  the 
Rhymer  ?" 

"Tumpty  Turn  the 
Rhymer,"  said  the 

Moon  Prince,  "  is  our  chief  oddity.  He  is  a  sort  of 
wandering  minstrel,  who  pours  out  moon  legends  to  any 
one  that  will  listen  to  him.  Let's  get  out  of  his  way." 


TCMPTY   TUM   THE    RHYMER. 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  63 

So  they  secreted  themselves  behind  a  tree,  and 
Tumpty  Turn  went  by,  mumbling  a  lot  of  rhyme,  and 
appearing  to  be  greatly  carried  away  by  it.  As  the 
Moon  Prince  and  Johnny  listened,  they  heard  him 
sing: 

THE    CHECKERS'   FROLIC. 

"Way  down  in  the  mead,  where  the  dappled  woodpeckers 

Are  drumming  away  on  the  tree, 
I  just  saw  the  black  and  the  cardinal  checkers 
A-jumping  around  in  their  glee. 

"They're  jumping  about  like  a  lot  of  grasshoppers; 

I  think  they  are  playing  leap-frog; 
A-flash  in  the  air  like  a  shower  of  coppers, 
A-joggeddy,  joggeddy,  jog ! 

"  Oh  my,  but  the  checkers  enjoy,  and  most  keenly, 

Their  spry  little  frolicsome  vaults; 
I  noticed  a  king  turn,  while  smiling  serenely, 
A  couple  of  back  summersaults. 

"I  know  that  each  checker,  like  little  Jack  Horner, 

When  weary  will  wearily  leap 
Unto  the  repose  of  the  board's  double  corner 
To  drift  to  the  valley  of  sleep." 

Before  Johnny  could  say  anything  to  express  his 
wonder,  Tumpty  Turn  the  Rhymer  passed  out  of  sight, 
and  the  Moon  Prince  observed : 

"That  is  only  an  incident  of  the  Toy  Garden.  I 
suppose  you  would  like  to  see  that,  wouldn't  you  ?" 

Johnny  of  course  was  only  too  anxious  to  see  and 
enjoy  the  marvels  of  this  magic  enclosure,  and  no 
sooner  had  he  informed  the  Moon  Prince  than  the 
farmer  said, 

"  I  should  like  very  much  to  go  also." 


64  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

"  And  so  should  I,"  warbled  the  Roasted  Pig.  "  I  am 
ahead  of  time  in  my  work,  not  a  weed  mars  the  pros- 
perity of  my  beloved  beans,  and  I  should  greatly  en- 
joy the  wonders  of  the  Toy  Garden." 

The  Moon  Prince  consented,  and  with  Johnny,  the 
farmer,  and  the  Roasted  Pig  moved  in  the  direction  of 
that  bower  of  joy.  The  Roasted  Pig  rested  on  the  arm 
of  the  farmer,  the  Prince  walked  gracefully  alone, 
and  Johnny  rode  on  the  two  wish-horses. 


VI 


As  soon  as  Flowerbell  and  his  companions  reached 
the  wicket  of  the  Toy  Garden,  Johnny  learned  that  he 
could  rid  himself  of  the  wish  -  horses,  because,  as  the 
Moon  Prince  explained,  they  had  to  remain  in  the  en- 
closure in  which  they  were  wished  into  existence.  It 
was  a  great  relief  to  Johnny,  because  he  didn't  under- 
stand the  art  of  riding,  and  was  at  a  loss  to  manage 
the  second  horse.  They  had  no  sooner  entered  the  Toy 
Garden  than  they  met  another  horse. 

"  Tell  me  whose  wish  you  are,"  demanded  Flower- 
bell. 

"  I  am  the  wish  of  Silversmith  the  Tenth,"  replied 
the  horse,  politely.  "  He  was  just  down  here,  and  wished 
he  could  get  over  the  mania  of  believing  to  be  real  the 
wild  fancies  that  sometimes  fill  his  mind.  He  just 
thought  he  was  being  pursued  by  a  man  who  was  going 
to  make  a  circus  poodle  of  him,  and  when  I  sprang  into 
existence  he  made  me  run  at  the  top  of  my  speed  to 
escape  his  pursuer.  As  I  was  running  along  he  said 
to  himself,  '  To  have  to  sit  on  a  barrel  and  smoke  a 
pipe ;  to  have  to  jump  through  a  balloon ;  to  race  up 
one  ladder  and  down  another ;  to  have  to  wear  a  sol- 
dier's cap  made  of  a  newspaper,  and  walk  down  an  in- 
clined plane  on  one's  hind-legs  on  a  ball — oh  my !  oh 
my !  oh  my  !'  A  great  fear  shook  the  frame  of  Silver- 
smith the  Tenth,  and  at  his  request  I  hurried  to  the 
5 


66  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

wicket,  where  he  dismounted,  and  ran  for  dear  life  to 
the  palace." 

"  We  must  not  venture  near  him,  then,"  said  Flower- 
bell,  cautiously.  "  I  am  very  glad  that  the  idle  ballad 
of  Tumpty  Turn  the  Rhymer  suggested  to  me  the  beau- 
tiful idea  of  coming  into  the  Toy  Garden.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  I  have  not  been  in  this  interesting  enclosure 
for  six  or  eight  several  moons." 

"  How  old  is  the  moon,  anyhow  ?"  asked  Johnny. 

"  Gracious  !"  exclaimed  the  farmer,  "  did  you  hear 
that  ridiculous  question  ?" 

"  You  should  remember,"  observed  the  Roasted  Pig, 
smilingly,  "  that  Johnny  is  at  present  the  guest  and 
playmate  of  the  Moon  Prince,  and  therefore  you  should 
show  him  more  courtesy." 

The  Moon  Prince  complimented  the  Roasted  Pig  on 
his  appreciation  of  the  attention  due  a  guest,  and  com- 
mented with  great  severity  on  the  uncouthness  of  the 
farmer,  who  was  so  dazed  that  he  was  at  a  loss  for  an 
apology,  although  he  fumbled  in  the  crown  of  his  hat 
as  though  to  find  one  there. 

"  But  how  old  is  the  moon,  anyhow  ?"  Johnny  re- 
peated, to  turn  the  conversation,  and  give  the  poor 
disconsolate  farmer  an  opportunity  to  regain  his  men- 
tal equilibrium. 

"  It  is  never  more  than  a  month  old,"  replied  Flower- 
bell.  "After  it  is  a  month  old  it  becomes  a  new  moon 
again.  That  is  why  we  are  so  fresh  and  lively.  But' 
let  us  hurry  along  to  see  the  checkers  jump." 

So  they  wended  their  way  through  the  pearly  bowers 
of  the  Toy  Garden  until  they  reached  the  little  meadow 
mentioned  by  Tumpty  Turn  the  Rhymer.  Here  they 
.found  the  checkers  having  a  glorious  time.  The  check- 
er-board, which  was  designed  to  counterfeit  a  book,  had 


THE    MOON    PRINCE 


67 


on  the  back  for  a  title,  Mooney's  Moon,  L,  II.  It  lay 
open  on  the  grass,  and  the  checkers  were  having  a  most 
exciting  game.  The  lazy  checkers  would  allow  them- 
selves to  be  jumped  to  get  out  of  the  game.  As  soon 


THE    JUMPING    CHKCKERS. 


as  a  checker  was  jumped  he  would  stand  to  one  side. 
It  was  astonishing  to  see  the  kings  jump  backward 
when  there  was  a  chance  to  take  three  men.  Finally 
there  was  a  quarrel  as  to  whose  move  or  jump  it  was, 
and  the  game  ended  rather  abruptly.  Then  they  com- 
menced jumping  over  each  other  without  any  reference 
to  the  game,  and  when  they  became  fatigued  they  all 
began  jumping  for  the  open  board  to  secure  the  double 
corners  for  a  good  rest.  When  they  were  all  in,  the 
board-~book  closed  suddenly. 

Then  the  kites  came  out  of  a  thicket,  like  so  many 
birds,  and  began  flying  about  in  graceful  circles,  while 
they  wagged  their  tails  affectionately  in  recognition  of 
the  presence  of  the  Moon  Prince.  The  latter  was  as 
greatly  flattered  at  this  exhibition  as  Johnny  and  the 
Roasted  Pig  were  pleased  ;  for  it  was  quite  as  new  and 


68  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

novel  to  the  Roasted  Pig  as  to  the  happy  playmates  of 
the  Prince.  The  farmer  said  nothing,  fearing  he  might 
get  into  trouble.  But  if  he  said  nothing,  he  smiled  all 
over  with  a  sort  of  childish  delight. 

The  kites  finally  retired,  and  then  a  humming  sound 
filled  the  air,  becoming  louder  and  louder,  until  a  num- 
ber of  humming-tops  appeared  in  regular  columns,  like 
soldiers.  As  they  marched  along,  the  sound  changed 
into  softest  music,  for  they  were  supplied  with  a  new 
bird  song  each.  They  spun  for  quite  a  while,  much  to 
the  delight  of  all,  the  Roasted  Pig  becoming  almost 
hysterical  wi.th  joy.  But  after  a  while  the  tops  began 
to  run  down,  and  as  they  did  so  their  song  became  more 
pensive  and  dreamy,  until,  just  as  they  were  about  to 
roll  over  on  their  sides,  they  turned  into  a  flock  of 
humming-birds,  and  flew  away  into  a  lot  of  moon  lilies, 
while  their  music  filled  the  air  as  with  subtlest  in- 
cense. 

"  Well,  well,  well !"  was  all  that  Johnny  could  say, 
as  he  clapped  his  hands  with  delight. 

"  It's  about  the  prettiest  thing  I  ever  saw,"  mur- 
mured the  Roasted  Pig,  in  tones  of  unfeigned  rapt- 
ure. 

The  farmer  was  afraid  to  hazard  an  opinion,  lest  he 
provoke  the  Prince,  who  said : 

"  Here  comes  Tumpty  Turn  the  Rhymer,  who  perhaps 
can  give  us  a  jingling  legend  to  account  for  this  dainty 
conceit  of  nature." 

"  That  can  I,"  replied  Tumpty  Turn,  who  had  over- 
heard the  suggestion  of  Flowerbell.  "It  is  all  owing 
to  what  happened  to  one  top  many  moons  ago,  and 
then  became  a  part  of  the  nature  of  every  top  of  that 
species.  This  is  the  story  as  well  as  I  can  remem- 
ber : 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  69 

THE    TOP'S    DREAM. 

"Once  a  top  fell  asleep  while  'twas  spinning  away, 
And  was  charmed  by  a  vision  delightful  and  gay. 
Oh,  it  dreamed  it  played  music,  the  sweetest  e'er  heard, 
As  it  floated  about  on  the  wings  of  a  bird. 

"  It  was  when  it  awoke  in  the  rose-scented  dew 
That  away  in  the  meadow  a  minstrel  it  flew; 
But  whene'er  into  sleep  in  its  spinning  'twould  drop 
It  was  then  the  sweet  minstrel  lapsed  into  a  top. 

"  And  to  this  very  day  in  the  moon-flowers  deep 
All  the  minstrels  are  tops  when  they  whirl  in  their  sleep, 
But  it's  just  at  the  moment  the  pleasant  sleep  stops, 
That  a  flock  of  fine  birds  are  the  bright  humming-tops. 

"  They  were  gay  humming-tops  when  they  spun  in  our  view, 
They  are  now  humming-birds  of  the  loveliest  hue, 
But  they'll  soon  change  from  birds  in  the  moon-flower  copse 
To  a  lot  of  blue,  yellow,  and  green  humming-tops. 

"  When  the—" 

"  Oh,  come,  now,"  remarked  the  Moon  Prince,  "  we 
are  not  so  guileless  as  we  may  appear,  and  you  must 
not  fancy  for  a  moment  that  you  can  entertain  us  for 
more  than  half  a  day  with  a  set  of  verses  that  run  on 
in  that  style.  First  the  tops  fall  asleep  to  wake  as 
humming-birds,  then  as  humming-birds  fall  asleep  and 
become  tops.  That  is  all  very  well;  but  when  you 
.come  to  build  verse  after  verse  on  that  fact  it  is  de- 
lightful if  you  are  simply  doing  it  to  kill  time,  but  when 
you  come  to  recite  these  verses  for  the  edification  of 
intelligent  creatures,  it  is  pretty  fair  to  assume  that  the 
intelligent  creatures  stand  a  splendid  chance  of  getting 
the  worst  of  it." 

"  Horrible !  most  horrible !"  exclaimed  the  farmer, 


70 


THE    MOON    PRINCE 


delighted  to  have  an  opportunity  to  agree  with  the 
Moon  Prince,  and  efface  the  impression  made  by  his 
unhallowed  outburst  when  Johnny  inquired  after  the 
aere  of  the  moon. 

o 

"  Do  humming-birds  sing  songs  ?"  asked  Johnny. 

"  They  do  in  the  moon,"  replied  Flowerbell.  "  They 
are  not  like  your  earth  humming-birds,  that  only  buzz 
like  bees.  The  humming-birds  of  the  moon  sing 
songs." 

"  That  is  all  very  true,"  put  in  the  Roasted  Pig,  "  but  I 
yet  have  my  criticism  to  render  upon  the  'Top's  Dream.' 
As  a  Roasted  Pig  I  beg  to  protest  against  the  infliction 
of  such  a  creation  upon  decent  people.  It  jingles  all 


THE    HCMMISG-TOPS,  HUMMING. 


right,  but  is  simply  a  series  of  repetitions.  I  can  com- 
pose one  like  it  without  thought  and  on  the  spot." 

"  Do  it,"  they  said—"  do  it !" 

So  the  Roasted  Pig  wiped  his  eye-glasses,  and  while 
fanning  himself  with  his  great  straw  hat,  proceeded  : 


THE  MOON  PRINCE  71 

THE  CAT  OP  CHICKADEE. 

"  There  was  a  cat  in  Chickadee 

Whose  head  was  large  and  round; 
Sometimes  she  slept  way  up  a  tree, 
Sometimes  upon  the  ground. 

"  When  she  was  happy,  slumber-bound 

Upon  the  grassy  sea, 
She  wasn't  sleeping  very  sound 
Way  up  the  waving  tree. 

"  But  when  asleep  way  up  the  tree 

That  lisping  leaves  surround, 
She  wasn't — alas  !  alack  !  ah  me  ! — 
A-sleeping  on  the  ground." 

At  the  close  the  Roasted  Pig  turned  a  hand-spring,  and 
tossing  his  hat  and  glasses  in  the  air,  caught  them  as 
they  descended — the  hat  upon  his  head,  the  glasses 
upon  his  nose. 

"  Well  done,  good  Mr.  Roasted  Pig !"  said  Johnny. 

"  Please  don't  mister  me,"  replied  the  Roasted  Pig, 
in  a  tone  that  showed  how  put  out  he  was.  "  Just 
plain  Roasted  Pig  on  first  acquaintance.  When  you 
know  me  a  little  better  you  may  simply  call  me  Pig, 
and  if  we  should  ever  become  intimate  friends  I  shall 
be  happy  to  have  you  address  me  in  terms  of  affection 
as  plain  Roasted.  But  never  call  me  Mr.  Roasted  Pig, 
or  Roasted  Pig,  Esquire." 

Johnny  promised  to  remember  this,  and  to  hope  for 
the  time  when  he  should  call  him  simply  Roasted. 

They  were  all  happy  but  Tumpty  Turn  the  Rhymer. 
He  made  them  feel  that  he  was  deeply  offended  at  the 
gratuitous  off-hand  manner  in  which  they  criticised  his 
attempt  to  afford  them  amusement  and  instruction. 


72  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

"  If  you  didn't  like  the  song,  why  did  you  ask  me  to 
sing  it  ?  I  didn't  come  along  asking  you  if  you  would 
like  to  hear  the  '  Top's  Dream,'  and  requesting  you  to 
beg  me  to  recite  it.  I  am  sure  I  have  gained  nothing 
by  it." 

"  We  are  all  quite  certain  of  that,"  said  the  Roasted 
Pig,  "  and  we  did  not  wish  to  be  rude  to  you  for  the 
sake  of  causing  you  mental  pain.  We  simply  wanted 
you  to  know  that  you  were  imposing  upon  us,  though 
perhaps  unconsciously.  We  will  assume  that  you  in- 
tended no  imposition,  and  drop  the  matter." 

"  Then  I  shall  feel  perfectly  justified  in  keeping  upon 
friendly  terms  with  you,"  replied  Tumpty  Turn  the 
Rhymer. 

"  Oh,  look  at  that !"  exclaimed  Johnny. 

They  all  looked,  and  down  the  path  came  the  hoops, 
rolling  along  as  though  being  driven  by  children.  The 
sticks  would  hit  them  and  guide  them  round  the  cor- 
ners in  the  neatest  manner.  And  then  the  marbles 
came  out  and  had  a  game.  The  Blue  Agate  divided  the 
marbles  with  the  Red  Agate,  and  then  they  commenced 
to  see  who  could  win  the  bagful.  The  Red  Agate  was 
very  avaricious,  and  didn't  seem  to  be  able  to  win 
enough.  Whenever  he  lost  a  marble  he  would  turn 
redder  with  feeling  than  he  was  naturally.  This  was 
very  amusing  to  the  Blue  Agate,  who  was  not  avaricious 
at  all,  but  played  for  the  fun  of  it,  and  intended  return- 
ing his  winnings  should  he  be  fortunate.  One  by  one 
the  marbles  went  to  the  avaricious  Red  Agate,  who  was 
smiling  with  happiness.  Crack  !  crack  !  went  the  mar- 
bles, until  every  one  was  in  the  receptacle  of  the  ava- 
ricious Red  Agate. 

"  Now,  then,  let  me  see  if  I  can' win  you  !"  exclaimed 
the  avaricious  Red  Aerate. 

O 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  73 

The  Blue  Agate  set  itself  up  for  a  mark,  and  bang 
went  the  avaricious  Red  Agate  against  it.  But  the  ava- 
ricious Red  Agate  was  smashed  into  a  thousand  pieces 
and  distributed  all  over  the  Toy  Garden. 

"  What  a  beautiful  moral !"  observed  the  Moon  Prince. 

"  It  is  just  what  should  happen  to  every  one  who 
wants  all  he  sees,  and  can  never  be  satisfied  with  a 
substantial  success,"  said  Johnny. 

"  I  am  not  much  of  a  moralist,"  murmured  the  Roast- 
ed Pig,  "  so  I  should  prefer  to  be  allowed  to  remain 
silent,  and  observe    the 
wonders  of  the  Toy  Gar- 
den at  my  ease.    Just  see 
here ;  if  I  am  not  mis- 
taken these  are  the  lead 
soldiers !" 

Sure  enough,  there  was 
a  sound  of  drumming, 
and  down  the  path  came 
the  lead  soldiers,  not 
walking,  but  gliding 

THE    ROASTED    PIG. 

along   on   the  platforms 

moulded  on  their  feet.  The  horsemen  went  ahead, 
and  it  was  a  grand  sight.  Some  of  the  soldiers  were 
in  red  and  others  in  blue,  and  there  were  a  sufficient 
number  of  them  to  stretch  almost  across  the  walk  and 
make  a  beautiful  lead  military  display. 

"  I  suppose  if  a  bullet  should  hit  one  of  them  it 
would  become  a  part  of  him !"  said  Johnny. 

The  Moon  Prince  did  not  reply,  and  as  the  Toy  Gar- 
den was  quite  new  to  the  Roasted  Pig  and  the  farmer, 
nothing  was  said,  Tumpty  Turn  the  Rhymer  not  caring 
to  again  make  himself  a  general  butt  of  ridicule. 

As  the  lead  soldiers  passed  out  of  sight,  along  came 


74  THE    MOON    PKINCE 

the  Noah's  Ark.  It  was  on  four  wheels,  and  moved 
along  as  though  wound  up.  Directly  in  its  rear  came 
the  elephants,  wagging  their  heads  on  hinges.  Like 
the  other  animals,  they  were  upon  platforms,  and  the 
platforms  ran  along  on  wheels.  One  of  the  elephants 
became  displeased  at  some  indignity,  fancied  or  real, 
and  illustrated  his  feelings  by  kicking  his  hind  wheels 
in  the  air.  Behind  the  elephants  came  the  camels, 
moving  dreamily  and  noiselessly  along,  as  though  upon 
a  dreary  palm-dotted  desert  far  from  a  crystal  spring. 
The  camels  were  followed  by  the  bears  on  their  hinder 
feet,  and  the  bears  by  the  antelopes. 

"  What  makes  that  reindeer  look  so  woe-begone  and 
disconsolate  ?"  inquired  the  Roasted  Pig,  demurely. 

"  I  fancy  he  has  had  half  his  face  chipped  off,  and 
the  white  pine  is  shining  through  his  painted  skin,"  re- 
plied the  Moon  Prince.  "  It  does  make  him  look  rather 
cast  down,  I  am  willing  to  admit." 

"  He  should  be  thankful,"  observed  Johnny,  "  that 
his  face  is  chipped  instead  of  one  of  his  wheels  being 
broken  off.  What  good  would  his  four  feet  be  to  him 
if  he  had  but  three  wheels  to  get  along  on  ?" 

"  Such  a  condition  is  altogether  too  sad  to  contem- 
plate," put  in  the  Roasted  Pig.  "  WThat  do  you  say 
if  we  refrain  from  contemplating  it  ?" 

"  I  am  perfectly  willing  if  the  rest  are,"  said  Tumpty 
Turn  the  Rhymer. 

Flowerbell  and  Johnny  said  they  would  be  only  too 
happy  not  to  dwell  upon  such  a  sad  thing. 

"Now  why  don't  you  say  something?"  demanded 
the  Roasted  Pig  of  the  farmer. 

"  Because  I  have  nothing  to  say,"  replied  the  farmer. 

"Do  you  always  keep  still  when  you  have  nothing 
to  say  ?" 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  77 

"  Always,"  responded  the  weary  agriculturist,  "  ex- 
cept when  eating." 

"  Then,"  they  said  in  chorus,  "  you  are  the  wisest  man 
we  ever  met,  and  we  are  going  to  introduce  you  to  Sil- 
versmith the  Tenth  as  the  Philosophic  Farmer,  and 
suggest  that  he  make  you  a  Prime-minister.  And  we 
shall  hereafter  treat  you  with  profound  respect." 

The  Philosophic  Farmer  seemed  greatly  pleased,  as 
he  watched  the  animals  of  the  Noah's  Ark  pass  out  of 
sight  around  a  clump  of  bushes,  and  the  tin  animals 
appear  in  their  wake.  The  tin  animals  were  quite  as 
dignified  and  self-conscious  as  tin  animals  could  well 
be  as  they  moved  down  the  path.  The  spotted  horses 
and  the  brindled  cows  made  a  fine  display,  as  did  the 
various  sheep  and  pigs. 

"  Beautiful  animals  !"  said  the  Philosophic  Farmer, 
abruptly. 

"  Why  don't  you  say  more  ?"  asked  the  Moon  Prince. 

"  Nothing  more  to  be  said  !"  responded  the  Philo- 
sophic Farmer. 

The  Moon  Prince  then  jumped  on  his  foot. 

"  Ouch  !"  exclaimed  the  Philosophic  Farmer. 

"  Is  that  all  ?"  asked  Flowerbell. 

"All  that's  necessary,"  responded  the  Philosophic 
Farmer,  seriously. 

Then  the  stuffed  birds  followed  the  tin  animals  down 
the  walk,  and  soon  the  whole  procession,  which  was  a 
long  and  imposing  one,  wound  out  of  sight  around  a 
corner  of  the  silvery  moon  path,  and  all  was  still.  • 

"  They  are  rehearsing  for  the  owl's  ball,"  observed 
the  Moon  Prince,  when  the  procession  moved  out  of 
sight.  "  To  -  morrow  night  at  this  time  we  shall  be 
there.  Suppose  we  take  a  little  rest  under  this  tree  ?" 

They  all  seated  themselves  under  the  tree. 


78  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

"  Turn  it  on  !"  commanded  the  Moon  Prince. 

The  tree  was  an  old  black  one,  and  apparently  dead. 
But  as  soon  as  Tumpty  Turn  the  Rhymer  turned  .the 
crank,  similar  to  one  of  those  on  a  gas-jet,  the  whole 
tree  was  white  with  the  most  fragrant  flowers,  that  rip- 
pled in  the  air,  and  filled  all  the  Toy  Garden  with  the 
balmy  spirit  of  spring-time. 


vn 


THE  effect  of  the  old  black  tree  bursting  forth  into 
blossom  on  the  turning  of  the  crank  was  something 
not  easily  described.  Tumpty  Turn  the  Rhymer  knew 
all  about  it  before,  as  well  as  did  the  Moon  Prince. 
But  to  the  Roasted  Pig,  Johnny,  and  the  Philosophic 
Farmer,  it  was  quite  new.  The  Roasted  Pig,  though 
raised  on  a  farm,  knew  little  of  the  agricultural  art 
aside  from  beans,  and  even  the  Philosophic  Farmer 
himself — the  man  with  the  agricultural  gift  —  had 
never  dreamed  of  anything  like  it.  Occasionally  a 
flock  of  gayly  plumed  birds  would  be  attracted  by 
the  odorous  blossoms  and  fly  to  the  tree.  But  just 
as  they  were  about  to  alight  the  Moon  Prince  would 
twist  the  crank  and  turn  the  flowers  off,  much  to  the 
disappointment  of  the  poor  birds,  that  would  fly  away 
as  though  under  a  spell  of  superstitious  awe. 

The  Roasted  Pig  and  the  Philosophic  Farmer  apol- 
ogized for  their  unsociability  by  saying  that  they  al- 
ways retired  for  the  night  early  on  the  farm,  and  that 
they  could  scarcely  keep  their  eyes  open.  They  were 
told  they  might  fall  asleep  if  they  so  desired,  and  in  a 
very  few  moments  they  were,  no  doubt,  dreaming  of 
the  probable  success  of  the  bean  crop,  and  a  possible 
aftermath  of  something  else. 

And  shortly  after,  the  others  fell  asleep  under  the 
white  flower-tree,  and  dreamed  away  the  silvery  hours 


80  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

until  it  was  time  to  be  stirring  for  another  day.  Then, 
at  the  suggestion  of  Flowerbell,  they  proceeded  to  the 
palace  to  be  in  readiness  for  the  festivities  of  the 
evening.  It  is  not  necessary  to  say  that  their  appear- 
ance created  some  surprise.  Princess  Roseflake  was 
frightened  when  they  appeared  where  she  was  reading 
what  was  to  her  a  fairy  tale — a  tale  in  an  earth  book 
which  Johnny  happened  to  have  when  he  met  Flower- 
bell,  then  a  squirrel,  on  the  fence  near  his  father's 
house. 

"I  am  so  glad  to  see  you,  Flowerbell,  and  you  too, 
Johnny.  But  who  is  the  horrid  gentleman  on  your 
left?" 

"  The  Philosophic  Farmer,  the  greatest  and  most 
remarkable  man  in  the  whole  realm  of  Silversmith  the 
Tenth." 

"  Why  is  he  so  wonderful  ?"  asked  pretty  little  Rose- 
flake,  brushing  the  amber  curls  back  from  the  snowiest 
of  snowy  foreheads. 

"  Because,"  replied  Flowerbell,  "  he  never  speaks 
when  he  has  nothing  to  say." 

"  And  who  is  this  singular  creature  with  the  eye- 
glasses ?"  asked  the  Moon  Princess,  eying  the  Roasted 
Pig  from  head  to  feet. 

"  This  is  the  Roasted  Pig  !" 

The  Moon  Princess  withdrew  with  apparent  aversion, 
and  was  very  much  surprised  when  the  Roasted  Pig 
made  a  most  polite  and  diplomatic  bow,  and  said,  no- 
ticing her  coldness : 

"'Tis  true  I  am  but  a  poor  Roasted  Pig  of  little 
pretension.  I  am  a  fair  authority  on  the  subject  of 
beans,  and  am  the  bean  shepherd,  if  such  a  term  be 
permissible,  of  the  Philosophic  Farmer,  who  never 
speaks  when  he  has  nothing  to  say.  I  have  come  here 


\ 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  83 

with  him  and  Tumpty  Turn  the  Rhymer  at  the  kind 
invitation  of  the  Prince,  your  brother,  to  attend  the 
ball  given  in  honor  of  the  return  of  the  Owl  to  the 
moon,  and  I  trust  I  may  have  the  honor  and  the  pleas- 
ure of  walking  through  a  minuet  with  you." 

"  You  are  the  most  charming  pig  I  ever  met,"  re- 
plied the  Moon  Princess,  making  a  slight  bow,  "  and 
you  shall  dance  with  me  during  the  evening." 

The  Roasted  Pig  bowed  gracefully  in  acknowledg- 
ment of  the  delicate  consideration  of  the  Moon  Prin- 
cess, while  the  others  were  spellbound  at  his  audacity 
in  addressing  Roseflake  in  such  a  familiar  manner. 
The  Philosophic  Farmer  said  nothing,  either  because 
he  had  nothing  to  say,  or  because  he  was  too  over- 
come for  utterance,  but  at  the  bottom  of  his  heart  he 
entertained  a  deep-seated  respect  for  the  Roasted  Pig 
that  he  had  never  before  felt. 

Roseflake  reported  that  she  had  been  in  the  kitchen 
a  short  time  before,  and  that  some  cakes  were  being 
made  that  would  astonish  them  at  the  feast.  Then 
she  went  away  to  attend  to  some  duty,  and  in  walked 
the  Librarian,  blowing  smoke  from  his  eyes,  followed 
by  the  French  Poodle  that  could  not  speak  English, 
which  made  him  at  home  at  court. 

The  Roasted  Pig  was  frightened  when  he  saw  the 
Librarian  blowing  smoke  wreaths  from  his  eyes  in 
such  a  dreamy  manner. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  this  is  the  fellow 
who  smokes  pigs,  and  they  have  just  brought  me  here 
under  the  pretence  of  taking  me  to  a  ball  in  order  to 
smoke  me." 

"  What's  the  matter  ?"  asked  Flowerbell. 

"  I  fear  that  you  have  brought  me  here  to  smoke 
me.  If  you  have,  I  shall  surely  be  ruined,  for  a  pig 


84 


THE    MOON    PRINCE 


should  be  smoked  before  roasted,  and  not  roasted  be- 
fore smoked." 

"  Nonsense !"  exclaimed  the  Moon  Prince ;  which 
sentiment  was  echoed  by  Johnny. 

"  Why  don't  you  say  something  to  set  his  mind  at 
rest?"  they  demanded  of  the 
Philosophic  Farmer. 

"  Nothing  to  be  said,"  replied 
the  agriculturist.     . 

"  It  would  be  difficult  to  lose 
you  in  the  fog,"  said  Johnny, 
wishing  to  turn  the  subject  of 
conversation,  as  he  watched  the 
Librarian  walking  about  through 
the  clouds  of  smoke  he  emitted. 
"  Impossible,"  was  the  reply 
of  the  Librarian.  "  I  can  read 
fine  type  in  the  densest  smoke. 
But  my  eyes  are  a  little  weak 
now,  as  I  got  some  dust  in  them 
yesterday  while  exercising  the  furniture." 

The  Moon  Prince  and  Tumpty  Turn  the  Rhymer 
paid  no  attention  to  the  remark  of  the  Librarian,  as 
the  exercising  of  the  furniture  was  a  common  weekly 
occurrence.  But  to  the  others  its  meaning  was  not 
clear.  Flowerbell  noticed  this,  and  probably  thought 
it  would  be  far  easier  to  exercise  a  table  or  two  than 
to  explain  it.  So  he  asked  the  Librarian  if  he  would 
treat  them  to  such  a  performance.  The  latter  said  he 
would  be  only  too  happy  to  comply,  as  he  had  a  table 
that  was  greatly  fatigued  from  holding  up  a  number 
of  heavy  scientific  books.  In  fact,  one  of  its  legs  was 
defective,  and  he  thought  a  good  run  would  do  it 
good. 


THK    PHILOSOPHIC 
FARMER. 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  85 

So,  at  a  magic  word  from  the  Librarian,  the  table 
stood  up  on  those  members  which  might  be  termed 
the  hinder  legs,  and  capered  about  more  gracefully 
than  could  have  been  expected  of  such  a  clumsy  piece 
of  furniture.  Then  it  ran  out ;  but  ran  like  a  dog  on 
three  legs,  on  account  of  the  defective  member.  When 
in  the  open  air  it  trotted  along,  and  jumped  nimbly 
over  anything  that  happened  in  its  way. 

The  Librarian  guided  its  movements  with  a  wand, 
and  seemed  as  proud  as  a  ring-master  in  a  country 
circus.  Sometimes  it  would  circle  round  and  round, 
and  occasionally  it  would  take  a  good  swift  run,  and 
then  slide  along  on  its  casters,  like  a  boy  on  a  frozen 
pool.  After  it  had  been  running  about  in  this  way 
for  some  time,  the  Librarian  shouted  to  his  favorite 
high  stool,  the  one  he  stood  upon  to  reach  books  when 
the  step-ladder  was  not  to  be  found,  and  out  it  came, 
trotting  along  like  a  stork.  The  manner  in  which  it 
jumped  over  various  objects  showed  it  to  be  a  very 
active  stool.  It  could  run  very  much  faster  than  the 
table,  on  account  of  the  latter's  lame  leg,  and  found 
no  trouble  in  keeping  at  the  front.  After  a  while  it 
wearied  of  running,  and  jumped  lightly  upon  the  ta- 
ble, as  a  circus  equestrian  would  upon  a  horse,  and 
turned  the  nimblest  summersaults  as  the  table  kept 
upon  its  way.  No  matter  how  the  table  pranced  or 
changed  its  motion,  the  stool  maintained  its  position 
with  the  surefootedness  of  an  ibex.  After  they  had 
been  at  this  kind  of  exercise  for  perhaps  half  an  hour, 
the  Librarian  said, 

"  Go  back  to  the  library." 

Back  ran  the  table,  closely  followed  by  the  high 
stool,  and  they  were  soon  in  their  accustomed  places. 

They  were  followed  by  Flowerbell,  Johnny,  and  the 


86 


THE    MOON    PRINCE 


rest  of  the  party,  all  of  .whom  had  something  to  say 
on  the  subject  of  the  furniture  circus  except  the  Phil- 
osophic Farmer,  who  probably  imagined  that  it  didn't 
require  critical  remark. 

Once  more  in  the  library,  Flowerbell  pointed  to  the 
manikins — the  little  men  that  told  stories  upon  their 

buttons  being  touched,  and 
saved  people  the  trouble 
of  reading — and  said  to 
the  Librarian, 

"  Please  bring  down  the 
Funny  Manikin  that  tells 
the  story  of  the  bottle- 
green  step-mother  of  the 
blue  gander  that  flew  away 
with  the  pearl  necklace  of 
the  cross  -  eyed  Princess 
with  the  corpulent  pug 
that  couldn't  wake  up  un- 
til stepped  upon." 

"  The  manikin  that  tells 
that  story  is  out,  being 
duplicated  in  French  that 
it  may  be  enjoyed  by  the  French  Poodle  that  cannot 
speak  English.  There  is  a  moral  in  the  pug  part  of 
that  story  that  I  would  impress  upon  the  French 
Poodle's  mind." 

"'Then  give  us  'Catullus  Magee  and  the  Musical 
Tree,'  if  the  manikin  is  not  being  oiled  to  roll  off  the 
lines  smoothly." 

The  Librarian  looked  over  the  row  of  manikins,  and 
finally  found  the  one  he  wanted.  Taking  it  down,  he 
stood  it  upon  the  table,  where  it  bowed  politely  when 
the  button  was  touched,  and  began  : 


THE   FUNNY    MANIKIN. 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  87 


CATULLUS  MAGEE  AND   THE   MUSICAL  TREE. 

"There  was  once  a  small  boy  named  Catullus  Magee, 
And  his  father  lived  under  a  musical  tree 
That  discoursed,  when  Catullus  was  hnppy  and  good, 
The  most  beautiful  airs  at  the  edge  of  the  wood. 

"But  whenever  Catullus  was  naughty  and  bad, 
All  the  airs  of  the  tree  were  both  doleful  and  sad. 
And  to  learn  his  son's  conduct,  old  Mr.  Magee 
Would  but  have  to  consult  the  green  musical  tree. 

"  If  the  tree  gave  a  woe-begone,  sorrowful  howl, 
And  they  missed  from  the  cupboard  a  patty  of  fowl, 
Then  the  father  would  play,  with  a  movement  most  rare, 
A  quick  birchen  tattoo  on  his  small  son  and  heir. 

"  If  the  tree  made  a  moan  at  the  noon  of  the  day, 
It  declared  that  Catullus  from  school  was  away, 
And  without  further  question,  when  homeward  he  came, 
He  would  find  his  anatomy  more  than  aflame. 

"  When  Catullus  one  day  was  both  merry  and  good, 
Loud  the  tree  played  sad  airs  at  the  edge  of  the  wood. 
All  awave  in  the  odorous  breezes  of  June, 
The  melodious  branches  were  all  out  of  tune. 

"  Then  said  Mr.  Magee  :  '  Oh,  no  musical  tree 
Hence  shall  make  me  believe  what  I  can't  plainly  see ; 
Never  more  sign  or  symbol  shall  govern  my  acts, 
The  next  whipping  you  get  shall  be  founded  on  facts. 

"  '  I  have  whipped  you,  though  good,  when  the  music  was  sad.' 
'  Yes,  indeed,  sir,  you  have,'  coincided  the  lad. 
For  each  thrashing  apologized  Mr.  Magee, 
And  the  next  day  he  chopped  down  the  musical  tree." 

"  I  never  supposed  you  had  signs  and  symbols  in 
the  moon,"  observed  Johnny. 


88  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

"  Well,  we  have,"  replied  Flowerbell,  "  and  we  have 
lots  of  them  too,  just  as  you  have  on  the  earth." 
Then  turning  to  the  company,  he  continued :  "  If  an 
earth  farmer  sees  a  woodchuck  sitting  on  a  gate-post 
scratching  himself  behind  the  left  ear  with  the  right 
foot,  it  is  a  sign  that  there  will  be  snow  inside  of  three 
days  and  a  half.  And  they  have  many  other  signs 
quite  as  quaint  and  singular.  Would  you,"  he  con- 
tinued, pointing  to  the  Roasted  Pig,  "  mind  explaining 
a  few  of  the  signs  of  the  moon  ?" 

"Of  course  not,"  responded  the  Roasted  Pig.  "To 
begin  with,  if  you  meet  a  three-legged  rabbit  waltzing 
in  a  potato  -  patch  with  a  near  -  sighted  partridge,  it 
means  that  inside  of  a  week  there  is  going  to  be  a 
shower  of  white  cocoa-nut  cakes.  When  you  hear  a 
soprano  mud  hen  singing  a  love-song  in  an  alto  voice 
to  a  spectacled  Guinea-pig  with  a  rose-cold,  it  is  a  sure 
sign  that  there  is  going  to  be  a  green-cheese  famine 
in  the  moon.  When  a  white  pig  turns  black  and  his 
black  spots  white,  and  he  whistles  impromptu  airs 
that  cause  the  beans  to  bake  in  their  pods,  it  is  a 
sign  that  the  winter  will  be  open  if  it  is  not  shut. 
I  hardly  think,  as  the  Philosophic  Farmer  would  say, 
that  there  is  anything  more  to  be  said  on  the  sub- 
ject." 

Just  then  the  French  Poodle  that  couldn't  speak 
English  heard  some  alien  footsteps  without,  and  com- 
menced barking  as  he  stood  with  his  fore-feet  upon 
the  library  window-sill.  They  all  looked  out,  and 
Johnny  supposed  he  saw  a  number  of  skeletons  out 
for  a  walk.  Some  had  on  whole  suits,  others  just  an 
overcoat,  and  some  simply  a  coat  and  vest.  He  didn't 
think  it  anything  wonderful  that  the  French  Poodle 
that  couldn't  speak  English  should  bark  so  hard.  But 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  89 

the   skeletons  paid   no  attention  to  it,  continuing  in 
their  walk,  though  all  were  silent. 

"  Who  are  those  skeletons,  anyway  ?"  asked  Johnny. 

"They  are  not  skeletons  at  all,"  replied  Tumpty 
Turn  the  Rhymer ;  "  they  are 
a  lot  of  clothing  -  frames  out 
for  an  airing  —  principally  to 
air  the  clothes  —  and  to  ad- 
vertise the  latest  styles.  Is 
there  anything  about  it  that  sur- 
prises you  ?"  asked  the  rhymer, 
with  a  smile. 

"  There  is,"  Johnny  replied.       THE  FKENCH  POODLE- 
"  It  all  surprises  me." 

"  Well,"  said  Tumpty  Turn,  "  wait  until  you  see  the 
latest  bonnet  display  of  the  moon." 

"  Here  it  comes  now  !"  exclaimed  the  Roasted  Pig, 
as  he  executed  a  graceful  jig  step.  "  Here  it  comes 
now!" 

They  all  looked  in  the  direction  in  which  the  Roasted 
Pig  pointed,  and  saw  a  dim  cloud.  But  as  the  cloud 
came  nearer  it  lost  its  sombre  character.  It  became 
a  mixture  of  all  colors.  Here  was  a  little  pink,  there 
a  little  blue,  and  again  some  yellow  melting  into  green, 
and  from  the  green  into  orange  and  ecru.  Nearer 
and  nearer  it  came,  and  the  cloud  seemed  to  separate 
into  round  objects,  which  in  a  little  while  appeared  in 
their  true  character  of  bonnets. 

"  If  I  had  my  gun  here,"  said  Johnny,  "  I  could 
bring  down  a  dozen." 

Nothing  was  said  at  this  comment,  and  the  bonnets 
slacked  up  in  their  flight,  to  be  seen  and  enjoyed  by 
the  many  women  about  the  palace.  They  fluttered 
about  in  the  most  graceful  circles,  their  flowers  trem- 


90  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

bling  in  the  air,  and  their  ribbons  streaming  like  so 
many  kite  tails,  and  their  birds  singing :  "  Who'll  buy  ? 
who'll  buy  ?"  but  all  the  time  kept  out  of  reach  in  the 
most  tantalizing,  tempting  manner,  it  seemed  to  those 
who  wanted  them  most.  But  with  all  their  flowery 
charms  they  at  length  passed  on.  And  no  sooner  had 
they  vanished  than  there  was  a  great  clatter  on  the 
ground,  and  along  came  the  latest  styles  of  shoes  on  a 
gentle  trot.  It  seemed  funny  to  see  the  shoes  bend 
at  the  insteps  as  they  proceeded  upon  their  business 
journey.  The  heavy  shoes  came  down  in  a  business- 
like way,  the  evening  gaiters  had  an  airy,  frivolous 
manner,  while  the  patent-leather  pumps  moved  about 
in  circles  as  though  waltzing.  It  was  a  very  pretty 
and  novel  sight,  and  it  was  greatly  enjoyed  by  the  on- 
lookers, but  very  much  more  so  when  the  last  pair,  an 
honest  pair  of  tramping-shoes,  sang  what  we  may  not 
inappropriately  call 

A   CALF-SKIN   LYRIC. 

"  May  we  wear  for  a  very  long  time, 

May  we  never  be  checkered  with  holes, 
May  we  long  know  our  leathery  prime, 
And  outwear  at  least  three  sets  of  soles. 

"  May  we  not  stiffly  squeak  as  we  go 

On  our  journey,  but  loose  may  we  feel, 
And  throughout  our  existence,  oh  !  oh  ! 
May  we  never  run  down  at  the  heel. 

"May  our  lives  like  a  minuet  flee, 

And  unpaired  never  be  our  sad  lot ; 
And  alas !  oh,  may  one  never  be 

All  worn  out  when  the  other  is  not." 

"  Not  at  all  bad  for  a  pair  of  shoes,"  said  Tumpty 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  91 

Turn  the  Rhymer,  in  a  tone  which,  though  patronizing, 
still  had  a  flavor  of  professional  envy  in  it. 

"Those,"  observed  the  Moon  Prince,  with  rever- 
ence, "are  not  new  shoes,  and  yet  they  will  never  be 
old.  They  originally  belonged  to  a  great  moon  poet, 
and  like  his  fame,  they  cannot  die.  They  are  wander- 
ing about  because  there  isn't  a  poet  in  the  realm  big 
enough  to  wear  them." 

There  might  have  T^een  a  further  discussion  on  the 
subject  of  the  divine  art  of  poetry,  but  at  that  mo- 
ment an  unknown  voice  was  heard  singing 

AN  ANNOUNCEMENT. 

"  There  will  be  a  grand  ball  to-night,  to-night, 

The  grandest  the  moon  has  seen, 
And  again  will  our  long-lost  owl  be  white 
As  the  cheese  of  the  moon  is  green. 

"  All  draped  with  the  softest  of  plumes,  of  plumes, 

That  the  moon  with  silver  soaks, 
He'll  sit  'mid  the  richest  of  rich  perfumes, 
While  he  gurgles  with  honest  jokes. 

"  He'll  not  be  the  lonely  sad  bird,  sad  bird, 

He  is  on  the  solemn  earth  ; 
He'll  be  just  the  jolliest  ever  heard, 
While  he's  coruscating  with  mirth." 

Then  the  French  Poodle  that  couldn't  speak  Eng- 
lish said,  "Quelle  heure  est-il?" 

"  Why,  it's  almost  eight !"  they  exclaimed,  in  cho. 
rus ;  "  and  it  is  high  time  that  we  were  getting  ready 
for  the  Owl's  ball." 


VIII 

AT  the  appointed  hour  the  ball-room  was  lighted  by 
a  miniature  moon.  This  moon  first  appeared  like  the 
bud  of  a  white  rose,  but  when  the  hour  for  the  ball  to 
begin  arrived,  this  pretty  bud  softly  unfolded  itself 
into  a  moon  that  flooded  the  room  with  a  glory  of 
pearly  light.  The  music,  which  was  soft  and  dreamy, 
came  from  the  trumpets  of  the  many  flowers  set  about 
to  beautify  the  room.  The  floor  was  like  a  sea  of  un- 
rippled  moonlight.  It  looked  as  though  it  would  be 
made  perfect  if  some  boat  of  pearl  should  idly  float 
upon  its  surface,  or  a  lily  or  two  were  tossed  upon  its 
bosom. 

Finally  the  huge  silk  curtain  was  held  aside  at  the 
entrance,  and  in  came  the  army  of  lead  soldiers,  march- 
ing just  as  they  had  been  when  seen  in  the  Toy  Gar- 
den. After  they  had  marched  around  the  room,  they 
halted  and  stood  in  two  long  columns  against  one  of 
the  walls. 

Then  entered  the  Noah's  Ark,  drawn  by  eight  toy 
elephants,  and  behind  the  ark  the  animals  proceeded 
with  a  martial  solemnity  that  was  very  charming,  and 
seldom  seen  in  wooden  animals.  After  them  came  all 
the  tin  animals,  and  then  appeared  the  stuffed  birds 
and  the  humming-tops  and  the  checkers.  Then  came 
the  invited  guests,  the  rear  being  brought  up  by  the 
Philosophic  Farmer.  Tumpty  Turn  the  Rhymer  and 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  93 

the  Roasted  Pig,  Flowerbell,  and  Johnny  were  together, 
and  Roseflake  was  in  a  silver  boat  that  was  drawn 
through  the  pearly  air  by  twenty  graceful  swans. 

The  King  sat  on  a  throne  at  one  end  of  the  room, 
and  at  that  spot  persons  who  desired  the  honor  were 
presented  to  him.  He  was  greatly  impressed  with  the 
Roasted  Pig  when  he  noticed  the  graceful  manner  in 
which  he  danced  with  Roseflake.  In  fact,  every  one 
envied  the  Roasted  Pig  the  high  honor  he  was  en- 
joying. 

"  Why,  it  seems  preposterous,"  remarked  Silver- 
smith the  Tenth,  "  that  a  Roasted  Pig  should  have  the 
manner  of  a  Prime-minister.  I  never  heard  of  such 
a  thing  before,  and  I  don't  believe  its  parallel  is  to  be 
found  in  the  whole  range  of  the  fairy  literature  of  the 
moon." 

Having  made  such  an  impression,  Flowerbell  con- 
sidered it  his  duty  to  present  the  Roasted  Pig,  that  he 
might  enjoy  the  benefit  of  the  King's  admiration. 

"  To  be  sure,  I  am  nothing  but  a  simple,  unassum- 
ing Roasted  Pig,"  he  said,  in  reply  to  the  King's  com- 
pliment. 

"  I  beg  to  differ  with  you,  Sir  Roasted,"  said  the 
King,  familiarly.  "  You  are  such  a  wonderful  creation 
that  I  am  going  to  create  you  Agricultural  Minister." 

The  poor  Roasted  Pig  was  temporarily  delighted, 
and  blushed  to  the  roots  of  his  bristles.  The  room 
seemed  to  swim,  so  that  he  could  hardly  realize  where 
he  was. 

"  Who  is  this  curious  creature  ?"  asked  the  King. 

"  This  man,"  said  the  Roasted  Pig — now  Sir  Roasted 
— "  is  the  Philosophic  Farmer,  who  never  speaks  when 
he  has  nothing  to  say." 

Silversmith  the  Tenth  was  delighted,  and  anticipated 


94  THE    MOOX    PRINCE 

the  suggestion  of  the  Moon  Prince  by  creating  him  a 
Prime-minister  on  the  spot. 

"  The  present  Prime-minister  must  take  your  place 
upon  the  farm,  and  ascertain  for  me  if  the  tilling  of 
the  soil  is  conducive  10  the  philosophic  temperament." 

Then  the  King  touched  them,  and  the  robes  of  the 
Prime- minister  were  upon  the  Philosophic  Farmer, 
while  the  patched  garments  of  the  latter  appeared  in 
all  their  variegated  picturesqueness  upon  the  Prime- 
minister,  who  looked  daggers,  or  rather  pitchforks,  at 
the  newly  -  created  diplomat,  who  appeared  wise,  but 
said  nothing. 

"  I  would  dance  in  my  ineffable  joy,"  murmured 
the  King,  "  upon  finding  so  valuable  a  servant ;  but 
as  I  cannot  dance  with  my  crown  on,  because  of  its 
unseemly  wobbling  all  over  my  head  and  down  on  my 
eyes,  I  would  have  you  wear  it."  So  he  clapped  his 
sparkling  crown  upon  the  head  of  the  Philosophic 
Farmer,  and  became  the  liveliest  dancer  in  the  room. 
In  fact,  his  long  flowing  cloak  seemed  in  the  way  of 
his  feet  as  he  skipped  and  pirouetted  about.  "  I  tell 
you,"  said  Silversmith  the  Tenth,  "I  never  enjoyed 
myself  so  much  before." 

"All  because  the  crown  was  on  another's  head," 
remarked  the  Philosophic  Farmer,  offering  it  back. 
"  Take  it ;  it  has  given  me  a  headache." 

The  King  was  greatly  pleased  until  the  Philosophic 
Farmer  said,  in  a  supplicating  tone  : 

"  "Will  not  you  have  mercy  on  Sir  Roasted  and  my- 
self, and  restore  us  to  our  original  positions  on  the 
farm  ?  We  can  only  be  happy  and  independent  there ; 
and  I  am  sure  your  old  Prime-minister  will  be  as  un- 
happy there  as  we  shall  be  here." 

"  Please  grant  our  simple  request,  good  Silversmith. 


THE    MOON    PRINCE 


95 


I  know  nothing  of  theoretical  farming,  and  am  there- 
fore unfit  for  the  position  of  Agricultural  Minister. 

"  Oh,  I  am  the  pork,  pork,  pork, 
But  where  are  my  beans,  beans,  beans?" 

wept  the  Roasted  Pig,  bitterly. 

"  You  are  altogether  too  valuable  here  to  waste  your 
time  on  a  bean  farm,"  replied  the  King. 

"  Suppose,"  said  the  Philosophic  Farmer,  "  that  1 
change  my  tactics,  and  go  right  on  talking  by  the 
hour  when  I  really  have  nothing  to  say,  then  what  ?" 


SILVERSMITH   THE   TENTH   ENJOYING   HIMSELF. 


96  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

"  Then  I  will  turn  you  into  a  donkey,"  replied  the 
King,  with  just  a  tinge  of  feeling,  "  and  have  you 
driven  uphill  all  day  before  a  plough ;  that's  what !" 

The  Philosophic  Farmer  thought  it  best  to  offer  no 
further  suggestions,  lest  the  King  put  his  terrible 
threat  into  execution,  but  to  abandon  his  dream  of 
happiness,  and  to  accept  with  as  good  grace  as  pos- 
sible the,  to  him,  terrible  alternative  of  remaining 
Prime-minister.  But  it  made  him  very  sore,  as  it  did 
the  Roasted  Pig.  They  stood  apart,  and  spoke  loving- 
ly of  the  humble  home  in  which  they  had  been  so 
happy,  and  of  the  waving  hills  and  meadows,  and 
thought  painfully  of  the  unlucky  day  when  they  met 
the  Moon  Prince  and  Johnny. 

"  If  we  had  had  but  the  forethought  to  conceal  our 
virtues  and  good  qualities,  we  should  still  be  happy," 
moaned  the  Philosophic  Farmer,  with  perhaps  a  flavor 
of  conceit.  "  But  I,  in  saying  too  little,  alas !  said 
too  much  ;  while  you,  with  your  graceful  manners  and 
flowery  compliments,  are  sadly  undone." 

"  Oh,  look  here  !"  exclaimed  the  King,  with  a  laugh. 

They  all  looked  ;  and  there  stood  the  French  Poodle 
that  could  understand  but  not  speak  English.  He  had 
on  a  white  satin  swallow-tail  that  looked  as  though 
made  of  moonlight,  a  pair  of  dainty  high-heeled  slip- 
pers, and  a  delicate  pair  of  gold-rimmed  spectacles. 

"  Why  do  you  wear  spectacles  ?"  inquired  Tumpty 
Turn  the  Rhymer. 

"Je  porte  des  lunettes  parce  que  fai  la  vue  mauvaise" 
replied  the  French  Poodle,  with  a  courtly  bow. 

This  polite  reply  threw  Silversmith  into  such  con- 
vulsions of  laughter  that  he  had  to  hold  his  crown  on 
with  his  hands,  as  he  would  a  straw-hat  in  a  high  wind. 

"  Don't  you  think  it  would  be  a  favorable  time  to 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  97 

ask  the  King  to  send  us  back  to  our  dearly  beloved 
farm,  now  that  he  shakes  with  the  laughter  of  inno- 
cent joy  ?"  inquired  the  Roasted  Pig. 

"  It  would  not !"  exclaimed  Flowerbell,  who  had 
just  been  dancing  with  Roseflake.  "  It  would  have 
the  effect  of  throwing  him  into  a  towering  rage,  and 
there  is  no  telling  what  he  might  not  do.  Remember 
that  I,  his  son  and  heir,  was  turned  into  a  squirrel  for 
months  because  I  rifled  a  cake  of  its  nuts,  and  then 
fancy  what  he  would  do  with  an  Agricultural  Minis- 
ter, for  instance." 

They  at  once  appreciated  the  sagacity  of  the  Moon 
Prince's  remarks,  and  decided  to  make  the  best  of  the 
unpleasant  situation.  But  they  were  not  left  in  such 
a  state  of  quietude  as  to  be  able  to  spend  much  time 
in  reflection.  The  bugles  of  the  flowers  discoursed  a 
lively  march,  and  from  the  cheering  outside  it  was 
evident  that  the  Owl  was  approaching.  The  stuffed 
birds  tried  to  flutter  with  enthusiasm,  several  of  the 
lead  soldiers  twisted  their  necks  out  of  shape  in  attempt- 
ing to  cheer,  and  the  dancing-pumps  couldn't  stand  still. 

The  King  was  delirious  with  joy,  Tumpty  Turn  was 
bubbling  with  rhyme,  and  the  little  moon  that  lit  the 
room  had  an  owl's  face  in  it.  Suddenly  the  Owl  ap- 
peared, amid  a  tumult  of  excitement.  It  was  one 
mass  of  the  whitest,  softest  feathers,  some  of  which 
trailed  in  the  air  like  moon-beams.  The  long  train 
feathers  were  held  up  by  other  birds — birds-in-waiting 
— and  the  owl  was  as  happy  as  could  be.  Having 
reached  the  upper  end  of  the  room,  it  came  dancing 
down  towards  the  King  in  the  liveliest  manner,  and 
the  music  had  a  hard  time  in  accompanying  the  move- 
ments of  its  feet. 

"  You  are  no  longer  a  solemn  bird,"  said  the  King, 
7 


98  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

affectionately.  "You  are  now  the  merry  bird  that 
you  were  originally.  Is  not  this  an  improvement  on 
roosting  in  a  belfry  ?" 

"  Very  much,"  replied  the  Owl,  "  when  you  have  a 
keen  sense  of  humor,  such  as  I  now  have.  My  head 
used  to  almost  split  when  the  man  below  played  chimes 
on  the  bell.  The  chimes  were  lovely  enough  in  them- 
selves, but  the  man  was  so  unskilful  that  he  made 
them  as  hideous  as  himself  by  missing  a  note  occa- 
sionally and  playing  out  of  time.  I  used  to  solace 
myself  by  working  my  imagination  until  I  fancied  I 
was  in  a  boiler  factory.  Are  you  fond  of  chimes?" 

"  When  artistically  rendered,"  replied  the  King. 
"  But  have  you  heard  anything  funny  lately  ?" 

"Yes,"  replied  the  owl;  "I  just  heard  a  chimney- 
sweep come  to  the  back  door  and  complain  of  thirst." 

"  What  is  there  funny  in  that?"  demanded  the  King. 

"  Nothing.  The  fun  was  in  my  suggestion,  if  you 
will  pardon  my  seeming  vanity,  that  he  be  given  a 
large  drink  of  washing-soda." 

The  King  humbly  apologized  for  having  criticised 
the  Owl's  joke  before  the  climax,  and  promised  never 
to  be  guilty  of  such  a  rudeness  again. 

"  As  I  was  walking  in  the  garden  this  morning  I 
heard  a  man  singing  a  very  funny  song.  It  went 
something  like  this : 

'  When  the  cotton's  softly  growing  on  the  sheep.' " 

"  What  was  the  rest  of  it  ?"  asked  the  King,  after 
the  Owl  had  paused. 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  the  Owl,  "  for  the  singer 
suddenly  stopped  singing  and  commenced  whistling." 

"Can  you  supply  the  rest  of  that  song,  Tumpty 
Turn  ?" 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  101 

"  Was  there  an  allusion  to  an  elephant  with  vege- 
table ivory  tusks  ?"  asked  the  Rhymer. 

"  How  should  I  know,"  replied  the  Owl,  sarcastically, 
"when  the  singer  began  the  whistling?  Perhaps  he 
whistled  something  about  an  elephant  with  vegetable 
ivory  tusks,  but  not  understanding  whistling,  I  couldn't 
say  for  certain." 

"What  kind  of  a  rhymer  are  you,  anyhow?"  de- 
manded the  King.  "  You  are  employed  to  keep  track 
of  all  the  moon  songs,  and  your  salary  is  overdrawn 
into  the  bargain.  Would  you  like  to  be  turned  into 
a  small  green  tree,  and  have  a  flock  of  cat-birds  sing 
the  same  song  on  your  branches  all  day  and  all  night 
long  for,  say,  ten  or  twelve  years?" 

"  I  would  not,  sire,"  responded  the  rhymer,  trem- 
bling like  a  short-haired  dog  on  a  cold  gray  day. 

"Then  you  must  mend  your  ways.  It  is  nothing 
but  the  joyfulness  of  this  festive  occasion  that  pre- 
vents my  making  you  wish  you  never  were  born.  I 
am  very  sorry  that  I  have  heard  the  beginning  of  this 
song,  for  I  shall  always  suffer  to  know  the  rest.  Just 
think  of  such  an  opening : 

" '  When  the  cotton's  softly  growing  on  the  sheep !' 

Please  say  something  to  make  me  forget  it,"  said  the- 
King,  in  despair. 

"All  right,"  murmured  the  Roasted  Pig,  wishing  to 
help  the  poor  rhymer  out  of  a  bad  scrape.  So,  turn- 
ing to  the  Owl,  he  continued,  "  Do  you  find  it  pleas- 
anter  feeling  funny  than  sad  ?" 

"  That  is  a  very  strange  question,"  replied  the  Owl. 
"  As  a  rule,  it  is  pleasanter  to  feel  funny  than  sad." 

"  But  you  cannot  take  anything  seriously  now,  can 
you?" 


102  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

"Nothing,"  replied  the  Owl,  with  a  laugh ;  "  not  even 
a  dose  of  medicine." 

The  King  laughed  with  great  feeling. 

Then  an  attendant  stepped  up  and  inquired,  "  Have 
you  forgotten  it  yet  ?" 

"Forgotten  what?"  asked  the  King,  fumbling  in 
his  pockets. 

"  Why,  that  lyric  about  the  cotton  softly  growing 
on  the  sheep  ?" 

"  There,  you  have  gone  and  reminded  me  of  it  again 
— refreshed  my  memory  on  the  subject,  if  I  may  so 
put  it — and  you  shall  suffer  for  it !" 

So  the  King  turned  him  into  a  bass  drum  with  a 
human  sense  of  feeling,  and  ordered  him  to  be  pounded 
at  every  hour  of  the  day,  to  tell  the  time,  for  six  years. 

"  When  a  subject  reminds  me  of  a  thing  that  I  have 
been  struggling  for  five  minutes  to  forget,  and  puts 
me  to  all  the  trouble  of  forgetting  it  over  again,  he 
must  be  made  an  example  of.  I  must  only  be  remind- 
ed of  things  that  I  don't  want  to  forget — such  as  um- 
brellas." 

Here  the  officious  subject  who  had  been  turned  into 
a  drum  rolled  down  the  steps  from  the  platform  upon 
which  he  had  been  standing.  The  King  ordered  the 
drum  to  be  brought  back  and  tightened  until  it  should 
almost  burst.  He  smiled  pleasantly  when  he  fancied 
the  pain  the  poor  drum  was  suffering,  and  then  order- 
ed the  man  who  was  to  strike  the  hours  on  it  to  wax 
absent-minded  now  and  then,  and  astonish  the  moon 
with  the  intelligence  of  the  arrival  of  eighty-six  o'clock, 
on  pain  of  being  turned  into  a  foot-ball. 

"Oh,  if  I  were  only  back  on  the  old  bean -hill!" 
mused  the  Philosophic  Farmer,  or  Prime-minister. 

"  Palaces  may  be  very  fine,"  thought  the  Roasted 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  103 

Pig,  or,  rather,  Sir  Roasted  Pig,  the  Agricultural  Minis- 
ter, "  but  if  comfort,  peace,  and  happiness  go  to  make 
life  enjoyable,  then  give  me  every  time  the  humble 
cabin  of  the  Philosophic  Farmer,  who  never  opens  his 
mouth  when  he  has  nothing  to  say  except  when  eating." 

"  Would  you  like  to  hear  a  royal  poem,  connected 
with  a  royal  personage?"  asked  Tumpty  Turn  the 
Rhymer,  wishing  to  distract  the  King's  attention,  and 
save  themselves  from  probable  disaster. 

"We  would  —we  would  !"  exclaimed  the  King. 

"  One  day,"  began  Tumpty  Turn  the  Rhymer,  "good 
old  King  Pearlbeam  the  Eighty-ninth  met  Sir  Ava- 
ricious, the  greediest  man  in  the  moon.  Pearlbeam 
was  the  most  sensitive  King  that  ever  sat  upon  the 
moon  throne,  and  when  Sir  Avaricious  said  '  between 
you  and  I,'  instead  of  '  between  you  and  me,'  the 
King  was  so  aggravated  and  upset  that  he  couldn't 
eat  mushrooms  for  three  days.  But  perhaps  I  am  in- 
terfering with  your  enjoyment  of  the  Owl's  ball  ?" 

"  Not  a  bit,"  said  the  King  ;  "  we  enjoy  the  ball  all 
the  more  for  the  pleasant  diversion  of  your  poems." 

"  Thanks,  sire  !"  exclaimed  the  happy  rhymer  ;  "  I 
will  begin  at  once  with 

THE  PUNISHMENT  OF  SIR  AVARICIOUS. 

"  One  time  Sir  Avaricious 

A  strange  adventure  had — 
Whether  a  thing  was  woful, 

Or  whether  it  was  glad, 
He  couldn't  tell,  which  often 

Made  him  extremely  sad. 

"  One  day  the  King  was  happy, 
And  feeling  at  his  best, 


104  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

When  for  Sir  Avaricious 
He  dropped  a  '  merry  jest,' 

And  on  the  same  his  judgment 
Politely  did  request. 

"His  subject,  sorely  puzzled, 
Out  of  his  wonder  woke, 
And  then  in  trembling  language 
Unto  the  monarch  spoke : 

'  Was  it  a  pearl  of  wisdom, 
Or  was  it  but  a  joke? 

"  '  If  'twas  a  pearl  of  wisdom, 

My  praise  shall  be  as  cheers; 

If  'twas  a  comic  sally, 
My  laugh  shall  split  your  oars ; 

If  'twas  a  fact  heart-rending, 
My  heart  shall  move  to  tears.' 

"Then  waved  the  angry  monarch 
His  sceptre  thin  and  frail, 

As  the  perturbed  tiger 
Lashes  his  brindled  tail 

When  piqued  by  something  or  other 
O'er  which  he  can't  prevail. 

"  He  rent  him  not  asunder, 
He  put  not  out  his  eyes, 

But  in  the  gentlest  manner, 
Sans  '  ifs,'  sans  '  buts,'  sans  '  whys,' 

He  led  Sir  Avaricious, 
Greatly  to  his  suprise, 

"  Into  a  bright  green  valley, 
To  a  deep  cave  of  gold, 
Saying  'The  door  but  open, 
And  riches  have  untold ; 
There  are  as  many  keys  as 
The  largest  ring  will  hold.' 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  105 

"  As  in  the  Christmas  window 

Poor  ragged  children  look 

At  painted  pasteboard  camel 

And  pretty  picture-book, 
The  rich  cave  door  this  mortal 
Into  his  vision  took. 

"First  one  key,  then  another, 

Sir  Avaricious  tried, 
But  ne'er  the  one  discovered 

That  this  great  want  supplied — 
There  being  several  thousand, 
He  naturally  sighed. 

"After  one  key  proved  useless 
It  mingled  with  the  mass; 
He  never  found  the  right  one, 

Which  did  his  soul  harass, 

With  many  a  woful  '  Gracious !' 

And  many  a  sore  '  Alas  !' 

" 'Twas  thus  he  vainly  struggled 

For  many  a  night  and  day, 
Until  his  limbs  grew  weary, 

And  all  his  hair  was  gray ; 
But  seeing,  through  the  key-hole, 

The  gold,  his  heart  was  gay. 

"  The  door  was  never  opened, 

And  all  because  the  King 
Made  him  an  object-lesson 

Prime  wisdom  wide  to  fling — 
He  never  put  the  right  key 

At  all  upon  the  ring. 

"  The  whole  moon  shook  with  laughter 

At  Pearlbeam's  funny  deed, 
Which  cured  Sir  Avaricious 

Of  his  exceeding  greed, 
And  a  fine  sense  of  humor 

Gave  him  with  lightning  speed." 


IX 


"  CHARMING,"  said  the  King — "  charming,  and  I  shall 
be  only  too  happy  to  forgive  you  for  not  being  able  to 
repeat  the  poem  of  the  cotton  softly  growing  on  the 
sheep." 

"  But  don't  you  think  King  Pearlbeam  displayed 
great  wisdom  in  curing  Sir  Avaricious  by  laughter,  in- 
stead of  by  a  cruel  vengeance  ?" 

"  I  am  not  prepared  to  say  on  such  short  notice,"  re- 
plied the  King.  "  It  is  all  well  enough  for  you  who 
are  not  a  King  to  belittle  the  practice  of  torture  upon 
those  deserving  it,  but  my  experience  is  that  it  is  a 
very  satisfactory  diversion,  especially  on  a  dull  day 
when  there  is  nothing  else  in  the  form  of  excitement 
to  be  had.  But  to  show  you  that  I  am  not  totally  de- 
praved in  my  tyranny,  I  shall  now  bring  this  chair 
back  to  its  original  self." 

The  chair,  when  touched,  jumped  into  the  air,  and 
came  down  a  thick-set  man  with  a  slight  Spanish  ac- 
cent. 

"  Thank  you  very  much,"  exclaimed  the  happy  mor- 
tal. 

"  Do  you  know  why  I  turned  this  baker  into  a 
chair  ?"  asked  the  King. 

"  No,"  they  replied  in  chorus. 

"  Because  one  day  he  made  a  caricature  of  me  in 
gingerbread,  and  asked  me  if  I  didn't  think  it  lifelike." 


THE    MOON    PRINCE 


107 


Here  the  French  Poodle  that  couldn't  speak  English 
came  whining  to  the  King.  It  seems  that  he  was 
lying  on  the  chair  asleep  when,  in  being  turned  back 
into  a  baker,  the  latter  tossed  him  into  the  air  and 
hurt  his  feelings. 

"  Why  don't  you  bite  him  ?"  laughed  the  Librarian. 

"  II  faut  aimer  tout  le  monde  meme  nos  ennemis  /" 
replied  the  Poodle,  with  a  fine  sense  of  what,  under 
the  circumstances,  might 
be  called  heroic  kindness 
and  consideration. 

At  this  time  a  queer  lit- 
tle old  woman,  known  as 
the  Grandmother  of  Pearl, 
entered  the  ball-room,  and 
commenced  watering  the 
flower  bugles  to  freshen 
them  and  enable  them  to 
discourse  lively  music,  as 
they  were  beginning  to 
wilt.  After  she  had  de- 
parted, Johnny  was  great- 
ly astonished  at  seeing 
a  large  table  come  up 
through  the  floor.  It  was 
covered  with  every  imag- 
inable dainty,  and  it  had 

not  been  in  sight  a  great  while  before  it  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  most  appreciative  body  of  delighted 
beings. 

The  great  cakes  had  doors  in  their  sides,  which 
swung  open,  and  out  ran  a  lot  of  little  men  bearing 
the  mottoes  and  bonbons  they  contained  to  every  part 
of  the  table.  After  they  had  been  distributed,  the 


GRANDMOTHER    OF    PEARL. 


108  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

little  men  turned  into  deliciously  cooked  birds,  and 
lay  down  on  the  plates  to  be  eaten.  Another  cake, 
the  largest  of  the  lot,  turned  into  a  ring  that  looked 
like  a  rainbow.  It  floated  about  in  the  air  as  though 
suspended.  Into  this  ring  flew  the  Owl,  and  perched 
upon  its  lower  side,  and  swung  happily  to  and  fro  all 
over  the  room,  guiding  it  gently  with  its  great  white 
plumes,  until  it  seemed  to  be  swimming  on  the  moon- 
light. The  King  ate  ravenously  of  the  imaginary  sheep 
and  moon  bears,  off  plates  that  in  reality  were  empty, 
while  the  French  Poodle  ate  nothing  but  bonbons,  and 
the  Moon  Prince  carefully  avoided  anything  resem- 
bling nut-cake.  Johnny  thought  it  the  loveliest  party 
he  ever  attended,  and  secretly  wished  his  little  sister 
there  to  enjoy  it  with  him.  The  King  was  as  happy 
as  the  Librarian,  and  the  Librarian  was  as  happy  as  a 
King  as  he  skipped  nimbly  about.  The  Roasted  Pig 
eyed  the  vegetables  with'  the  glance  of  love  peculiar  to 
an  agricultural  minister,  and  the  Philosophic  Farmer 
looked  on  quietly,  but  uttered  not  a  word. 

Finally  the  Librarian  gave  the  table  a  peculiar  magic 
touch,  and  it  commenced  to  run  around  the  room,  leav- 
ing the  guests  in  their  chairs  gazing  upon  all  in  mute 
wonder. 

"  Be  not  at  all  disconcerted,"  said  the  King,  greatly 
pleased  at  the  unexpected  pleasure  of  a  joke ;  "  the 
table  is  only  running  around  to  warm  the  edibles  a 
bit." 

"  Laugh,  laugh !"  said  Tumpty  Turn,  "  or  the  King 
will  be  very  angry.  Remember  the  punishment  of  Sir 
Avaricious." 

They  thereupon  began  to  laugh  as  hard  as  possible, 
even  those  who  did  not  hear  what  the  King  had  said. 
This  greatly  pleased  the  monarch,  and  put  him  in  suet 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  111 

a  splendid  humor  that  he  became  absent-minded,  and 
tossed  a  tea-biscuit  in  the  air,  catching  it  in  his  teeth 
as  it  descended,  and  then  ordered  a  fresh  stock  of 
Christmas-trees  to  be  planted  in  the  Toy  Garden,  to 
bear  twelve  crops  of  toys  every  year. 

This  royal  order  greatly  pleased  Roseflake's  little 
brothers  and  sisters,  and  struck  Johnny  as  being  a 
poetically  beautiful  idea.  By  this  time  the  table  had 
returned,  and  was  standing  quietly  in  its  accustomed 
place,  when  the  King  suddenly  began  to  run,  under 
the  impression  that  the  birds  he  had  been  eating  were 
trying  to  pluck  out  his  eyes.  Out  of  the  room  he  ran 
pursued  by  every  one,  and  the  table  also.  When  he 
looked  through  his  fingers  and  saw  the  table,  he 
shouted, 

"  Oh,  the  birds  I  have  eaten  would  pluck  out  mine 
eyes !" 

"  How  can  they  pluck  out  your  eyes  if  you  have 
eaten  them  ?"  asked  the  Philosophic  Farmer. 

"  Why,  of  course  they  couldn't !"  acknowledged  the 
King,  with  a  foolish  look. 

"  Will  you  kindly  grant  us  the  privilege  of  laughing 
at  you  without  disastrous  results  to  ourselves  ?" 

"  It  is  a  good  joke,  .and  should  therefore  be  en- 
joyed, and  the  only  way  to  enjoy  a  joke  is  to  laugh 
heartily." 

They  all  laughed,  including  the  King,  who  joined 
in  to  satisfy  them  that  a  joke  at  his  expense  was  quite 
as  delightful  as  one  at  another's. 

"  When  do  we  go  to  Molasses  River  on  that  picnic 
to  be  given  in  Johnny's  honor  ?"  sang  the  Owl,  floating 
about  in  its  beautiful  ring,  with  its  soft  white  plumes 
trailing  in  the  moonlight. 

"To-morrow,  at  8.37,  if  possible,"  said  the  King. 


112  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

"  And  now  I  think  we  had  better  unmoon  the  room 
and  retire  for  the  night." 

So  the  little  moon  that  lighted  the  room  descended, 
and  was  put  between  two  tin  pie-plates,  and  secreted  in 
a  drawer,  the  French  Poodle  baying  it  as  it  was  being 
wrapped  up.  All  the  wooden  animals,  lead  soldiers, 
stuffed  birds,  dancing-pumps,  and  clothing-frames  fol- 
lowed ;  for,  of  course,  all  Moonland  was  light  enough 
for  them  to  find  their  way.  And  in  less  than  half  an 
hour  after  the  King  had  brought  the  Owl's  ball  to  a 
close  the  palace  was  wrapt  in  silence,  and  all  was  as 
serene  and  lovely  as  a  breezy  midsummer  night. 

The  order  of  Silversmith  the  Tenth  to  have  the  Cin- 
derella coaches  at  the  palace  door  at  8.37  was  obeyed 
to  the  letter,  or  rather  to  the  figure. 

When  Sir  Roasted  Pig,  the  Agricultural  Minister,  ob- 
served the  pumpkins  being  turned  into  coaches,  he  was 
as  dumfounded  as  was  the  Philosophic  Farmer,  who 
thought  that  all  there  was  to  be  said  on  the  subject 
was  simply,  "  Well !" 

As  the  coaches  came  up,  the  people  who  were  going 
to  the  picnic  all  became  small  enough  to  occupy  them, 
just  as  Johnny  had  when  he  took  his  first  drive  with 
his  little  friend  and  playmate  4the  Moon  Prince. 

It  was  a  most  charming  drive  to  the  Molasses  River, 
and  the  hour  it  occupied  seemed  little  more  than  ten 
minutes.  The  King  cracked  jokes  with  every  one,  and 
the  French  Poodle  barked  as  he  looked  out  of  the  coach 
window  at  the  wonders  along  the  way. 

Before  they  had  proceeded  a  great  distance  they 
saw  a  funny-looking  old  fellow  sitting  under  a  tree  by 
the  way,  singing.  He  seemed  to  be  in  a  very  happy 
mood  as  he  swung  his  arms  about  and  kicked  his  feet 
as  though  dancing  in  the  air. 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  113 

"  There  he  is  now.  I  wonder  if  he  has  them 
mended  yet  ?"  asked  the  Librarian,  with  a  smile  of 

j°y- 

"  There  is  who  ?"  asked  the  King.  "•  And  what  do 
you  wonder  if  he  has  mended  yet  ?" 

"  That's  the  man  that  mends  the  story  manikins," 
replied  the  Librarian  ;  "  and  I  am  wondering  if  he  has 
the  '  Adopted  Nephew  of  the  Sage-green  Elephant  with 
the  Glass  Eye '  done  ?" 

"  Hi,  there,  my  good  fellow  !"  shouted  the  King ; 
"  have  you  the  '  Adopted  Nephew  of  the  Sage-green 
Elephant  with  the  Glass  Eye '  finished  yet  ?" 

"  Not  quite,"  replied  the  Mender  of  the  .Story-man- 
ikins. "  He  had  his  main  -  spring  broken  in  pro- 
nouncing the  word  pterodactyl,  which  word  has  since 
been  eliminated  from  the  story.  I  wish  to  keep  the 
Story -manikin  a  day  or  two  longer  to  see  how  he 
works." 

"  You  have  not  tampered  with  the  story  itself  ?" 

"  The  story  is  intact  from  the  '  Once  upon  a  time ' 
to  the  final  syllable." 

"  The  reason  I  speak  on  the  subject,"  said  the  King, 
"  is  that  your  great-grandfather,  who  was  also  a  Story- 
Manikin  Mender,  once  purloined  a  story  from  a  man- 
ikin, and  by  so  doing  broke  the  set.  Since  that  time 
we  have  only  the  title,  and  it  is  impossible  to  replace 
the  narrative." 

"  How  so  ?"  asked  the  Manikin  Mender. 

"  Because  its  title,  '  Sickle  Pickle,'  gives  no  idea 
upon  which  to  base  a  story.  Now,  had  it  been  called 
'The  Apotheosis  of  the  Apothecary,'  it  would  have 
been  possible  to  invent  a  new  story." 

"  I  can   only  say,"  remarked  the   Story  -  Manikin 
Mender,  "  that  you  will  find  the  story  intact  in  every 
8 


114  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

manikin  returned  to  your  Librarian  by  me.  But  what 
became  of  my  great-grandfather  ?" 

"  Your  great-grandfather,"  continued  the  King,  "  has 
been  missing  since  that  particular  time,  and  now  that 
lie  has  been  missing  some  eighty  years,  it  does  not 
strike  me  as  very  likely  that  he  will  ever  gladden  us 
with  the  light  of  his  countenance  again." 

"  It  is  extremely  sad,"  murmured  the  Story-manikin 
Mender ;  "  but,  to  change  the  subject,  are  you  now  en 
route  for  Molasses  River  ?" 

"  We  are." 

"  Then  I  would  that  you  would  call  upon  me  in  my 
humble  abode.  I  would  show  you  a  new  invention  of 
mine  —  a  story  kettle,  a  song  kettle,  and  a  dance 
kettle." 

The  King  promised  to  call  and  hear  the  kettle  tell 
stories,  after  which  he  delightedly  introduced  the 
Roasted  Pig  and  the  Philosophic  Farmer. 

"  Here,"  said  the  Story-manikin  Mender,  with  a  hon- 
eyed smile,  "  is  the  heroic  legend  of  the  '  Sorghum  and 
the  Tantamount';  the  Librarian  might  as  well  take  it 
along.  The  '  Adopted  Nephew  of  the  Sage-green  Ele- 
phant with  the  Glass  Eye '  will  be  sent  home  to-mor- 
row, and  '  The  Barber  and  the  Bald  Eagle '  early  next 
week." 

He  bowed  and  withdrew,  and  the  pretty  little  Cin- 
derella coach  rolled  on. 

"  See  if  all  the  verses  are  in  that  poem,"  commanded 
the  King.  "  I  love  that  Molasses  River  poem,  and 
wouldn't  lose  a  verse  of  it  for  the  moon." 

The  Librarian,  having  some  bronchial  trouble, 
whispered  that  he  would  count  on  his  fingers,  and 
when  the  magic  button  was  touched,  the  manikin 
began : 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  115 


THE  ROMAUNT  OF  THE  SORGHUM  AND  THE  TANTAMOUNT. 

" '  We've  got  to  have  a  river  King,' 

The  fairies  said  one  day. 
'  The  Sorghum  would  be  dignified 

And  solemn  in  his  sway, 
But  then  the  agile  Tantamount 

Would  jolly  be  and  gay.' 

"  The  Sorghum  thought  himself  the  one 

To  rule  the  syrup  fount, 
He  thought  his  rival  as  a  King 

Would  be  of  no  account. 
'  Oh,  I'm  the  one  the  King  to  be,' 
Argued  the  Tantamount. 

"  The  feeling  soon  was  running  high, 

And  gained  on  all  a  hold, 
Until  they  met  one  day,  and  soon 

Hard  things  each  other  told — 
Sarcastic  was  the  Tantamount ; 

The  Sorghum  haughty,  cold. 

"  '  Come  on  !'  the  Tantamount  exclaimed. 

'  All  right !'  the  Sorghum  said. 
They  grappled  and  they  madly  fought 

Until  the  day  was  sped, 
Then  took  a  needed  recess,  for 

'Twas  time  to  go  to  bed. 

"  Upon  the  morrow  lookers-on 

A  pretty  combat  saw ; 
The  Tantamount  most  neatly  worked 

Away  with  tooth  and  claw, 
Until  the  Sorghum  held  him  down 

Beneath  his  massive  paw. 

" '  How  feel  you  now  ?'  the  Sorghum  asked. 
The  Tantamount  to  speak 


116  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

Refused,  but  with  a  hind-foot  blow 
The  Sorghum  caused  to  seek 

The  earth,  which  must  have  given  him 
An  earache  for  a  week. 

"  The  Sorghum  at  the  Tantamount 

Then  made  an  awful  roar, 
And  on  the  sugar  banks  they  fell, 

And,  rolling  o'er  and  o'er, 
Fought  as  Sorghum  and  Tantamount 
Had  never  fought  before. 

"But  neither  an  advantage  gained 
When  they  had  fought  full  half 

A  day,  which  to  the  patient  judge — 
A  brindled  old  Riffraff — 

Seemed  so  absurd  that  all  the  three 
Joined  in  a  merry  laugh. 

"  The  Sorghum  then  was  made  the  King, 

To  ride  the  syrup  seas ; 
The  Tantamount,  his  noble  foe 

So  valorous,  to  please, 
Was  then  and  there  created  King, 

To  rule  the  moon's  green  cheese. 

"  Unto  this  day  the  Sorghum's  throne 

Is  on  the  river  flats, 
And  still  the  supple  Tantamount 

The  veiy  best  of  cats, 
Keeps  ever  from  the  lily  moon's 

Green  cheese  the  mice  and  rats." 

"  That's  right,"  said  the  Librarian,  "  ten." 

"  What's  right  ?     Ten  what  ?"  asked  the  King. 

"  I  mean,"  said  the  Librarian,  "  that  the  poem  is  in- 
tact, because  it  has  ten  verses,  and  not  a  stanza  is 
missing." 

"Excuse  me,"  replied  the  King,  as  he  wiped  the 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  119 

perspiration  from  the  inside  of  his  crown,  "  but  in  my 
great  hilarity  I  forgot  that  I  asked  you  to  count.  Now 
count  your  fingers  to  see  if  you  have  ten,  that  I  may 
be  certain  there  is  not  a  verse  missing." 

The  poor  Librarian  counted  his  fingers  seven  times 
to  see  that  they  were  all  there,  and  then  replied,  "  Yes  ; 
ten." 

The  King  smiled. 

"But  the  movement  was  not  properly  rendered," 
said  the  Librarian,  as  though  communing  with  him- 
self. "  A  musical  movement  rendered  in  an  unmusical 
manner  is  not — " 

"Not  what?"  exclaimed  the  King.  "Not  what? 
Not  what  ?" 

"  Not  what  it  should  be,"  moaned  the  frightened 
Librarian.  "  I  was  about  to  say — " 

"  To  say  what  ?"  broke  in  the  King.  "  To  say 
what  ?  To  say  what  ?" 

"  That  the  song  manikin  did  not  render  the  '  Ro- 
maunt  of  the  Sorghum  and  the  Tantamount '  properly, 
owing  probably  to  the  fact  that,  through  having  been 
recently  repaired,  he  is  a  little  stiff  in  the  jaw,  and  re- 
quires oiling." 

"  Then  why  didn't  you  say  it?"  demanded  the  King. 

"  Because  I  could  not  get  a  chance.  I  simply  want- 
ed to  apologize  for  the  song  manikin." 

"  Now  that  you  have  had  the  chance  and  taken  ad- 
vantage of  it,  do  you  feel  that  you  have  performed  a 
noble  duty  that  makes  you  feel  better  ?" 

"  I  do,"  replied  the  Librarian,  who  really  didn't 
know  whether  he  did  or  not. 

"  Then  we  all  congratulate  you  upon  the  rapturous 
feeling  that  now  thrills  your  being.  But  don't  forget 
to  oil  the  song  manikin  upon  your  return." 


120  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

"  It  shall  not  be  neglected." 

"And  don't  allow  him  to  chant  the  historical 
-battle  of  the  Sorghum  and  the  Tantamount  until  he 
has  been  properly  oiled.  I  trust  his  throat  is  not 
warped." 

Upon  the  assurance  of  the  Librarian  that  the  song 
manikin  was  in  perfect  condition,  barring  the  requisite 
oiling,  the  King  acted  as  though  he  felt  his  reign  to 
be  a  great  success. 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  that  portion  of  the 
moon  that  is  very  sugary. 

The  hubs  of  the  Cinderella  coaches  in  which  they 
were  being  driven  touched  the  fine  powdered  white 
sugar  that  was  occasionally  wafted  by  the  wind  in  a 
fine  silvery  dust. 

"These  spots  upon  the  moon,"  observed  Tumpty 
Turn  the  Rhymer,  "  are  the  footprints  of  the  Sorghum. 
He  has  evidently  been  around  here  looking  after  his 
saccharine  interests.  And  that  great  impression 
yonder  was  made  by  him  when  he  lay  down  and  lost 
himself  in  the  aromatic  mazes  of  a  pleasant  gumdrop 
dream." 

"  What  kind  of  a  person  is  this  Mr.  Sorghum  ?" 
asked  Johnny. 

"  Not  Mr.  Sorghum,"  protested  the  King,  pleasant- 
ly ;  "  just  plain  Sorghum.  He  is  a  mass  of  good  nat- 
ure when  not  annoyed.  But  you  shall  shortly  see 
him,  and  be  able  to  judge  for  yourself.  Do  you  notice 
a  difference  in  the  air  ?" 

"  I  do,"  said  Johnny. 

"  This  is  sugar  air  from  Sugar  Sea,  into  which  Mo- 
lasses River  empties." 

"I  trust  it  is  not  very  injurious  to  the  teeth,"  said 
Johnny. 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  121 

"  It  is  not.  But  you  shall  see  all — you  shall  see 
all,"  exclaimed  the  King. 

And  a  few  minutes  later  the  Cinderella  coaches 
drew  up  on  the  banks  of  the  river,  and  were  turned 
back  into  pumpkins  until  they  should  again  be 
needed. 


As  they  all  walked  along  the  golden  sugar  shore  of 
Molasses  River,  leaving  the  coaches  behind  shining  as 
only  pumpkins  can  shine,  Johnny's  feet  sank  into  the 
sugar  almost  to  his  knees,  and  yet  he  did  not  tire.  On 
his  remarking  this  he  was  informed  that  no  one  could 
become  weary  or  fatigued  upon  those  mellifluous  banks. 
He  was  dwelling  upon  the  sweetness  of  such  a  spot  for 
a  play-ground,  when  the  King  said : 

"  Where  there  is  no  fatigue  there  can  be  no  rest. 
That  is  the  reason  the  Sorghum,  even  when  he  lies 
down,  does  not  sleep,  but  is  always  lively  and  on  the 
alert  for  his  interests." 

The  King  would  no  doubt  have  said  more,  but  their 
attention  was  attracted  by  these  words : 

"  '  White  sugar '  rhymes  with  '  light  sugar '  all  right, 
and  so  does  '  maple  sugar  '  with  '  staple  sugar.'  Now, 
I  might  begin  with, 

White  sugar, 

Maple  sugar, 
Light  sugar, 

Staple  sugar, 
Granulated, 

Pulverized, 

Tumpty  tumpty  turn. 

But,  no,  I  will  give  it  up — at  least  for  to-day." 

"  He    was   not   mentioning   my   name,"  explained 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  123 

Turapty  Turn.  "  He  was  simply  trying  to  do  the  su- 
gar Iliad,  as  he  has  been  trying  for  years." 

"  Who  is  he,  anyhow  ?"  asked  Johnny,  with  an  ex- 
pression of  the  most  earnest  curiosity. 

"  It's  no  less  a  creature  than  the  Sorghum,"  ex- 
claimed the  rhymer,  "  and  you  shall  see  him  directly." 

They  quickened  their  steps  up  the  river,  whose  deep 
golden  tide  swept  sluggishly  along.  There  were  the 
pancakes  floating  like  lily-pads,  just  as  the  Moon  Prince 
had  told  Johnny  when  they  were  on  their  way  to  the 
great  silver  planet. 

But  they  soon  forgot  the  river  when  they  turned  a 
bend  and  came  in  contact  with  the  sugar  king,  Sor- 
ghum. He  was  a  murky,  mouse-colored  creature,  very 
clumsy,  very  stout,  and  perfectly  hairless.  His  skin 
glistened,  and  he  could  scarcely  open  his  eyes.  The 
smile  that  illuminated  his  face  illuminated  his  entire 
body  ;  he  was  simply  transfigured  into  one  great  smile. 
He  was  counting  his  claws,  probably  to  perfect  the 
verse  he  was  making  as  to  feet,  for  he  continued,  in  a 
measured  whisper : 

"  White  sugar, 

Maple  sugar, 
Light  sugar, 

Staple  sugar, 
Granulated, 
Pulverized, 

Tumpty  tumpty  turn. 

That  seems  to  be  as  far  as  I  can  get,  but  as  far  as  it 
goes  it  is  simply  splendid." 

He  then  caught  sight  of  King  Silversmith  and  his 
royal  party,  and  fairly  danced  with  joy  in  the  wildest, 
maddest  circles. 


124  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

They  were  all  very  glad  to  see  him,  especially  the 
Owl. 

"This  is  the  first  owl  that  has  been  in  the  moon 
since  the  reign  of  Moonshine  the  Seventh.  You  know 
the  story  of  the  banishment  of  the  owl  ?"  said  Flower- 
bell. 

"  I  have  read  it  in  Mooney's  J/bow,"  replied  the  Sor- 
ghum. 

He  then  gave  Johnny  permission  to  pick  as  many 
chocolate  cream-drops  as  he  wanted ;  and  as  they  were 
growing  all  around  like  blackberries,  it  did  not  take 
Flowerbell's  little  playmate  long  to  satisfy  his  appetite. 

"  You  seem  to  be  a  very  sweet  boy,"  observed  the 
Sorghum. 

"  Thank  you  very  much  ;  but  would  you  be  offended 
if  I  should  ask  you  a  question  ?' 

"  Not  at  all — not  at  all,"  replied  the  Sugar  King. 

"  I  notice  that  you  smile  all  over.  Now,  when  you 
laugh  do  you  laugh  all  over?" 

"  I  do.  I  laugh  from  head  to  foot.  One  day  I  got 
laughing  so  that  I  burst  one  of  my  boots." 

"  Would  you  mind  telling  us  what  made  you  laugh 
so  violently  ?" 

"  Certainly  not,"  responded  the  Sorghum.  "  I  was 
one  day  walking  over  yonder  in  the  loaf-sugar,  when  I 
heard  some  one  singing  a  very  funny  thing.  It  began 
like  this,  if  I  remember  rightly, 

"  '  When  the  cotton's  softly  growing  on  the  sheep.'  " 

"That's  it — that's  it,"  roared  King  Silversmith  — 
"that's  it — that's  it!"  and  he  became  helpless  with 
laughter. 

"  Your  appreciation  is  a  delicate  compliment,"  said 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  125 

the  Sorghum,  "inasmuch  as  it  is  an  indorsement  of 
my  own." 

"  I  think  I've  got  it — I  think  I've  got  it !"  exclaimed 
Silversmith,  in  a  delirium  of  ecstasy. 

"  Got  what  ?"  asked  the  Sorghum. 

"  The  song." 

"  What  song  ?"  demanded  the  Sugar  King. 

"  Why,  the  song  about  the  cotton  softly  growing  on 
the  sheep." 

"  Where  did  you  get  it  ?"  asked  the  Sugar  King. 

"  I  didn't  get  it  at  all,"  replied  Silversmith. 

"  Then  why  did  you  just  say  you  thought  you  got 
it?" 

"Did  I  just  say  that?" 

"  Certainly  that's  what  you  said,"  protested  the  Sor- 
ghum. 

"  I  will  explain  myself,"  laughed  the  King  of  the 
Moon.  "  I  once  heard  that  line,  only  to  become  broken- 
hearted at  not  being  able  to  secure  the  rest  of  the  song. 
In  vain  have  I  tried  to  possess  myself  of  that  master- 
piece of  nonsense,  that  monument  of  fun,  that  must  be 
one  of  perennial  beauty.  And  when  I  heard  you  warble 
the  magic  syllables  a  burden  fell  from  my  life  and  a 
little  bird  sang  in  my  heart,  for  I  concluded  that  you 
knew  the  song  to  the  end." 

"  Would  that  I  did  !"  moaned  the  Sorghum — "  would 
that  I  did  !  Alas,  I  only  know  the  one  matchless  line  ! 
When  that  was  uttered  the  singer  began  to  whistle ; 
and  as  I  don't  understand  whistling,  and  the  singer 
suddenly  disappeared,  of  course  it  was  impossible  for 
me  to  do  anything  in  the  premises." 

Here  the  Sorghum  burst  into  tears  and  wept  copi- 
ously. It  was  the  first  time  the  King,  or  any  of  the 
party,  for  that  matter,  had  ever  seen  a  creature  weep 


126  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

all  over.  He  (the  Sorghum)  was  like  a  thunder-cloud 
that  shows  not  a  peaceful,  happy  spot,  and  his  great 
grief  won  for  him  the  sympathy  of  Silversmith,  and 
caused  that  monarch  to  assume  a  sunny,  forgiving 
mien.  After  the  Sorghum's  lamentation  had  subsided 
a  laughing  arc  surrounded  him  like  an  iris  after  a  storm, 
and  made  him  as  happy  as  a  Sugar  King. 

It  was  a  laugh  that  could  be  seen  and  felt  but  not 
heard,  and  every  one  that  saw  it  was  affected  by  its 
potent  spell ;  and  they  laughed  so  hard  that  they 
rolled  helplessly  about  on  the  sugar  sward.  It  was  in- 
deed a  funny  sight  to  see  the  King  hang  his  crown  on 
the  branch  of  a  tree  that  it  might  not  be  dented,  while 
he  rolled  about  in  a  state  of  bubbling  merriment. 

Suddenly  they  all  stopped,  for  the  laughter  arc  had 
disappeared,  and  there  they  all  sat  brushing  the  sugar 
off  their  clothing.  The  Roasted  Pig  lost  his  eye- 
glasses, but  finally  discovered  that  the  Philosophic 
Farmer  had  picked  them  up  during  the  rumpus,  as  he 
was  too  serious  to  be  affected  by  the  Sorghum's  arc  of 

j°y- 

"  Now  whither  are  you  all  wending  and  what  are 
you  all  about  to  do  ?"  inquired  the  Sorghum. 

"We  are  all  going  on  a  rambling  picnic  on  Molasses 
River.  My  son  having  been  unsquirrelled — " 

"Unwhat?"  asked  the  Sorghum,  in  a  tone  that 
showed  he  suspected  he  was  being  chaffed. 

"Unsquirrelled,"  repeated  the  King,  solemnly. 
"  When  I  gave  a  party  not  a  great  while  ago  in  Rose- 
flake's  honor,  Flowerbell  purloined  all  the  nuts  from 
the  cake  that  was  to  decide  the  marital  destiny  of  the 
sweet  little  Princess.  Then  I  turned  him  into  a 
squirrel  and  sent  him  to  the  earth  that  he  might  enjoy 
nuts  to  his  heart's  content.  If  I  have  not  been  misin- 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  127 

formed,  he  will  not  banker  after  nuts  for  some  time 
to  come.  When  he  returned  he  brought  with  him  a 
charming  little  playmate  and  the  great  white  Owl — " 

"  Don't  ask  me  if  I  remember  the  story  of  how  the 
Owl  tried  to  sell  Moonshine  the  Seventh  the  curling- 
fluid,"  laughed  the  Sorghum.  "  I  know  it  well  from 
beginning  to  end." 

"  Well,"  continued  the  King,  pretending  not  to  no- 
tice the  interruption,  which  really  pleased  him,  "  the 
Owl  is  back,  and  we  are  now  showing  it  and  Johnny 
what  are — presumably  to  them — the  wonders  of  the 
moon.  In  other  words,  we  are  taking  a  ramble,  which 
we  call  a  picnic  only  in  the  sense  that  it  is  a  tour  of 
pleasure.  And  now,  good  Sorghum,  wilt  accompany 
us  ?" 

"  With  pleasure,"  replied  the  Sugar  King,  jumping 
nimbly  from  the  ground,  kicking  his  boots  fifty  feet 
in  the  air,  and  catching  them  on  his  feet  as  they 
descended. 

So  they  walked  along  Molasses  River,  and  watched 
its  sinuous  currents  and  enjoyed  its  lovely  scenery. 
There  were  also  molasses  rapids  and  molasses  falls, 
and  when  the  molasses  boiled  over  great  sugar  rocks 
here  and  there  it  seemed  to  be  lashing  itself  into  a  fury 
of  molasses  candy.  Every  lily  was  a  white  cocoa-nut 
cake,  and  the  pads  being  pancakes,  as  mentioned  in 
the  poem,  reminded  Johnny  of  the  crisp,  cold  winter 
mornings  that  made  sausage  meat  an  epicurean  delight. 

"  What  huge  dewdrops  !"  said  Johnny. 

"  Dewdrops !  dewdrops !"  repeated  the  Sorghum, 
with  a  laugh.  "  They're  gumdrops,  my  boy — gumdrops 
that  ever  gem  these  lovely  sugar  flowers.  But  whither 
wend  we  ?" 

Johnny  was  disappointed  that  he  was  not  invited  to 


128  THE    MOON    PRIXCE 

help  himself  to  the  guradrops,  but  attributed  it  more  to 
the  Sorghum's  excitement  than  to  a  lack  of  etiquette. 

"  We  are  now  going  to  the  cabin  of  the  queer  little 
Manikin-mender,  who  has  invented  a  song,  dance,  and 
story  kettle." 

"  Is  not  it  time  for  me  to  say  something  ?"  asked  the 
Roasted  Pig. 

"  It  is,  Sir  Roasted,  it  is,"  replied  the  King. 

"  Then  what  time  is  it  ?" 

"Dix  heuresf"  replied  the  French  Poodle  that 
couldn't  speak  English. 

So  they  all  hurried  on,  and,  after  a  short,  brisk  walk 
were  at  the  tumble-down  abode  of  the  queer  little  Man- 
ikin-mender. 

"  What  ho  there  within  !"  shouted  the  King,  as  he 
rapped  upon  the  door  with  the  butt  of  his  sceptre. 

"  What  ho  there,  good  fellow !"  shouted  the  Sor- 
ghum, as  the  shining  head  of  the  queer  little  Manikin- 
mender  popped  out  of  the  window  and  replied  : 

"Good -morrow,  good -morrow!  What  wouldst 
thou  ?" 

"  We  understand  that  thou  hast  a  merry  song,  dance, 
and  story  kettle  ?"  said  the  Moon  King. 

"  Aye,  marry  that  have  I,"  replied  the  queer  little 
Manikin -mender,  with  a  proud  professional  smile. 
"  Wouldst  hear  them  discourse  ?" 

"  That  would  we,"  replied  the  Sorghum. 

"  Hast  finished  mending  the  '  Adopted  Nephew  of 
the  Sage-green  Elephant  with  the  Glass  Eye  ?' "  asked 
the  Librarian. 

"  It  has  just  been  sent  to  the  palace,"  replied  the 
queer  little  Manikin-mender,  who  now  recognized  the 
party,  and,  holding  three  kettles  up  to  view,  continued, 
u  This  is  Song,  this  is  Story,  this  is  Dance." 


THE    MOON    PRINCE 


129 


"A  plague  on  me  if  I  don't  fancy  this  fellow  a  pur- 
veyor of  spells !"  said  the  Roasted  Pig.  "  What  can 
he  mean  by  '  this  is  Song,  this  is  Story,  this  is  Dance.'  " 

"  That  thou  mayst  not  marvel  at  what  strikest  thee 
as  a  riddle,  I  will  unravel  for  thee  the  seeming  mystery. 
This  kettle  plays  music  that  causes  thee  to  dance  in 


THE    MANIKIN-MENDER   PCTS    ON    THE    DANCE   KETTLE. 


spite  of  thyself,  this  one  sings  a  song  that  makes  thee 
laugh  in  spite  of  thyself,  and  this  one  tells  a  story  that 
interests  thee  in  spite  of  thyself." 

They  all  filed  into  the  odd-looking  cabin,  and  saw 

many  manikin  arms  and  legs  lying  about,  and  various 

other  portions  of  the  manikin  anatomy.     The  queer 

little  Manikin  -  mender  having  satisfied  them  that  he 

9 


130  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

was  not  a  weaver  of  spells,  they  all  expressed  a  desire 
to  see  each  kettle  in  operation.  No  sooner  had  they 
made  known  their  wish  than  the  proprietor  of  the  hov- 
el ran  out  and  gathered  some  fagots  and  started  a  fire, 
and  filled  his  three  kettles  with  water. 

"  Suppose  I  put  Dance  on  first  ?"  said  the  Manikin- 
mender.  * 

They  all  nodded  in  the  affirmative. 

So  the  Manikin -mender  put  Dance  on,  and  they 
waited  patiently  for  a  few  minutes,  and  then,  when  it 
began  to  boil,  the  liveliest  music  ever  heard  issued 
from  the  spout.  The  King  listened  to  it  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  involuntarily  arose  and  commenced  to  dance 
as  no  Moon  King  ever  danced  before.  The  Sorghum 
followed  suit,  and  so  did  all 'the  others.  They  danced 
up  and  down  the  cabin,  and  out  through  the  door  and 
back  again.  It  seemed  very  strange  that  so  many 
could  dance  at  once  in  so  small  a  room.  And  the 
longer  the  kettle  boiled  the  faster  the  music  became, 
and  the  faster  the  music  movement  the  faster  the 
movement  of  the  dancers'  feet. 

"The  dance  must  continue  till  the  music  stops," 
said  the  Manikin-mender,  "  and  the  music  won't  stop 
until  either  the  fire  or  the  water  is  exhausted.  Neither 
of  them  are — " 

"Neither  of 'them  is/"  screamed  the  Roasted  Pig, 
grasping  at  the  slightest  straw  of  comfort  in  his  dire 
extremity. 

But  nothing  that  they  could  say  or  do  had  any  in- 
fluence on  the  situation,  and  they  danced  until  the 
water  was  boiled  away  and  the  music  stopped,  at  which 
happy  time  they  sank  upon  the  ground  exhausted. 

"  If  thou  canst — " 

"  Hold  up,  Mr.  Manikin-mender,"  said  Tumpty  Turn 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  133 

the  Rhymer.  "  I  think  it  about  time  we  change  our 
pronouns.  Let's  stick  to  '  I,'  '  my,' '  mine,'  '  he,' '  his,' 
'  him,'  etc. ;"  and  then  the  rhymer  began  singing, 
"  Nominative  they,  possessive  their  or  theirs,  objective 
them." 

"  Can  you  give  me  the  possessive  of  '  that'  ?"  asked 
the  Roasted  Pig,  following  Tumpty  Turn's  suggestion 
to  change  the  pronouns. 

"  Certainly  I  can,"  replied  Tumpty  Turn. 

After  a  few  moments  of  silence  the  Roasted  Pig 
said,  "  Then  why  don't  you  ?" 

"  Because  you  didn't  ask  me  to.  You  asked  me  if 
I  could  do  it,  not  if  I  would.  I  simply  replied  that  I 
could.  I  am  happy  to  see  by  your  twinkling  eye  that 
what  might  be  regarded  as  sarcasm  on  your  part  is 
merely  an  illustration  of  your  love  of  exactness.  Al- 
though most  grammarians  leave  the  possessive  of  the 
pronoun  '  that '  blank, '  whose  '  is  correct." 

"  Give  me  an  example,"  demanded  the  Roasted  Pig. 

"  Certainly.  That  Amontillado  whose  great-grand- 
father sported  a  peach-pink  sciatica  in  his  button-hole 
to  attract  the  attention  of  the  Memoranda  before  he 
could  charm  and.  swallow  the  fluttering  wakerobin." 

While  the  Roasted  Pig  bowed  humbly  in  acknowl- 
edgment of  the  correctness  of  the  answer,  the  King- 
said, 

"  Never  mind  the  grammar — never  mind  the  gram- 
mar; but  go  on,  good  Tumpty  Turn,  and  tell  us  the 
rest  of  the  story  of  '  that  Amontillado  whose  great- 
grandfather sported  a  peach-pink  sciatica  in  his  button- 
hole.' " 

"  There  is  no  story,"  replied  Tumpty  Turn.  "  It  was 
just  an  example  to  prove  the  possessive  of  '  that '  to  be 
'  whose.' " 


134  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

"  Can  the  kettle  tell  the  Amontillado  story  ?" 

"  Although  there  is  no  such  story,  yet  might  the 

kettle  tell  it,  for  you  never  know  what  the  kettle  will 

tell,  as  it  generally  tells  a  different  story.     Shall  I  put 

Story  on  ?" 

"At  once,  at  once,"  replied  the  King,  "  if  not  sooner." 
So  the  queer  little  Manikin-mender  put  Story  on,  and 

it  shortly  boiled  forth  the  following  pathetic  tale  of : 

THE   SNOW  PRINCESS. 

"  Snowdrop  was  the  beautiful  daughter  of  the  great 
and  good  Snow  King  Snowball  the  First,  who  reigned 
over  Snowland,  a  country  lying  so  far  north  that  even 
its  people  were  made  of  snow.  Snowdrop  was  so 
beautiful  that  every  Prince  coming  from  any  adjoining 
snow  country  fell  desperately  in  love  with  her.  She 
had  so  many  suitors  that  she  was  really  at  a  loss  to 
know  whom  to  accept,  and,  as  a  matter  of  course,  was 
very  vain.  Besides  the  Princes  of  the  neighboring 
countries,  there  was  the  son  of  a  poor  bellows-mender 
who  loved  the  Princess  so  devotedly  that  when  he  sat 
down  to  an  oil  dinner — which  was  about  the  only  kind 
the  poorer  people  of  Snowland  knew — he  fancied  he 
was  eating  nightingales'  tongues  stuffed  with  rose- 
leaves.  Being  only  a  poor  bellows-mender's  son,  he 
was  afraid  to  declare  his  passion. 

"  Finally,  seeing  that  Snowdrop  was  pining  away,  the 
King  said  be  would  give  her  to  the  man  who  would 
produce  the  orange-blossom  wreath  for  the  wedding, 
provided  he  was  not  a  fool.  Now  there  was  not  an 
orange  blossom  in  all  Snowland,  and  never  had  been, 
but  when  the  King's  offer  became  known,  all  the  young 
snow  men  for  miles  around  started  for  the  land  of  the 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  135 

olive  and  the  rose  for  the  blossoms  for  the  coveted 
wreath.  Poor  Snowdrop  was  sad  at  heart,  because  she 
was  afraid  she  might  have  to  marry  some  one  for  whom 
she  cared  naught.  Bat  the  snow  men  who  started 
southward — some  on  great  birds,  some  in  boats,  and  in 
every  other  way  they  could  think  of  to  get  there  and 
back  first — after  a  few  days'  journey  came  in  contact 
with  warm  weather,  and  melted  away.  The  Snow  King 
learned  this  from  a  snow-bird. 

"  Then  the  son  of  the  bellows-mender  pushed  his 
plate  of  oil  aside,  stopped  feasting  on  imaginary  night- 
ingales' tongues  stuffed  with  rose  -  leaves,  presented 
himself  to  Snowball  the  First,  and  demanded  the  hand 
of  Snowdrop. 

"  '  Where's  your  orange  wreath  ?'  asked  the  King. 

" '  I  have  none,'  replied  the  bellows-mender's  son. 
'  I  went  in  quest  of  none.' 

"  '  Why  did  you  not  ?' 

"  '  For  the  same  reason  that  I  now  claim  Snowdrop's 
hand.' 

"  '  And  what  is  that,  pray  ?' 

"  «  That  I  am  not  a  fool.' 

"  The  King  at  once  appreciated  the  wisdom  and  phi- 
losophy of  the  poor  bellows-mender's  son,  who  shortly 
after  was  wedded  to  the  lovely  Snow  Princess,  with 
whom  he  led  a  long  and  happy  life,  the  sunshine  of 
which  was  unmarred  by  a  single  sullen  cloud." 


XI 


"AVERT  sweet  little  story,  a  very  sweet  little  story," 
repeated  the  King.  "  If  you  will  only  keep  Story  boil- 
ing, and  put  each  tale  into  a  manikin,  I  will  buy  them 
all  from  you  at  the  palace,  five  off  thirty." 

The  queer  little  Manikin-mender  bowed  politely,  and 
the  Sorghum  said : 

"  A  very  lovely  tale  indeed  !  But  why  does  not  the 
queer  little  Manikin-mender  put  Song  on  ?" 

"  Put  Song  on,  put  Song  on — quick  !  quick  !"  ex- 
claimed the  King. 

So  Song  was  put  on  the  fire,  which  was  very  low ; 
and  after  it  had  been  on  about  seven  minutes,  during 
which  the  Sorghum  regaled  Silversmith  the  Tenth  with 
an  official  statement  relative  to  the  latest  sugar  deal,  it 
began  to  make  a  slight  moaning  sound,  as  though  say- 
ing something  in  a  very  low  tone.  As  soon  as  its 
sounds  could  be  understood,  it  said, 

"When  the  cotton's  softly  growing  on  the  sheep." 

It  then  paused  for  a  moment,  and  continued  by 
whistling  one  of  those  peculiar  tunes  that  take  hold  of 
you  and  accompany  your  every  movement. 

"  Make  Song  finish  it ;  make  Song — " 

But  Silversmith  was  compelled  to  stop,  because  the 
kettle  had  whistled  the  tune  just  long  enough  for  him 
to  catch  it ;  and  when  he  did  catch  it,  he  held  it,  or 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  137 

rather  it  held  him,  and  he  was  overcome.  All  the  others 
caught  it  in  the  same  way,  and  the  effect  was  simply 
ludicrous.  When  the  King  moved  his  sceptre,  it  could 
be  seen  that  it  was  to  the  time  of  the  horrible  tune  ; 
and  when  the  Roasted  Pig  wiped  his  eye-glasses,  it 
was  to  the  same  movement.  The  Philosophic  Farmer, 
in  his  silent  reflection,  nodded  his  head  in  harmony 
with  the  crazy  melody. 

"  I  don't  think  we  can,  I  don't  think  we  can,"  ex- 
claimed the  King,  in  a  sort  of  reverie. 

"  Don't  think  we  can  what  ?"  asked  the  Librarian. 

"  I  feel  that  we  shall  never  be  able  to,"  said  the 
King,  more  preoccupied  than  ever. 

"  Able  to  what  ?"  asked  the  Sorghum. 

"  Forget  that  tune,"  replied  the  King,  coming  quite 
suddenly  to  his  senses. 

Just  then  the  kettle  stopped  whistling,  because  the 
fire  had  gone  out,  and  the  cessation  of  the  melody,  if 
such  it  could  be  called,  was  a  great  relief.  But  al- 
though it  stopped  bubbling  from  the  little  spout  it 
continued  in  their  minds,  and  the  King  drummed  it 
on  the  table  with  his  finger,  while  all  the  rest  kept 
time  by  tapping  with  their  boot  heels. 

Suddenly  the  King  jumped  up  and  shouted, 

"  When  the  cotton's  softly  growing  on  the  sheep !" 

"Why  don't  you  continue?"  asked  Tumpty  Turn, 
sarcastically,  when  he  remembered  the  King's  strictures 
upon  a  former  occasion. 

Then  the  King  began  to  whistle  just  as  the  kettle  had 
done,  and  in  spite  of  himself  danced  an  accompani- 
ment. After  he  was  through,  they  all  walked  out  of  the 
cabin  of  the  queer  little  Manikin-mender  to  the  time  of 
the  tune,  the  influence  of  which  they  could  not  shake  off. 


138  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

"Why  didn't  you  dwarf  the  Manikin-mender,"  asked 
the  Librarian,  "  and  boil  him  in  the  water  of  that  awful 
tune  ?" 

"  It  was  not  the  Manikin-mender's  fault,"  explained 
the  King,  in  a  wise  tone  that  won  the  admiration  of 
the  Philosophic  Farmer.  "  It  was  the  fault  of  the 
kettle,  over  which  the  queer  little  Manikin-mender  has 
no  control.  And,  then,  who  would  mend  the  manikins  I 
Happy  indeed  would  be  the  moon  if  manikin-menders 
were  as  plentiful  as  Prime-ministers  !" 

"  Would  not  it  be  a  terrible  punishment  to  be  com- 
pelled to  drink  tea  made  of  the  boiling  water  that 
generates  that  tune  ?"  asked  the  Roasted  Pig. 

"  It  could  never  become  a  form  of  punishment,  for 
the  simple  reason  that  there  is  no  crime  of  sufficient 
magnitude  to  warrant  its  infliction.  But  let  us  try  to 
forget  it,"  continued  the  weary  Moon  King.  "  Will  not 
you  say  something,TumptyTum,  to  start  a  new  subject?" 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Tumpty  Turn.  "  How  far  is  it 
to  Molasses  River  Bridge,  good  Sorghum  ?" 

"  Not  more  than  half  a  mile ;  it  is  just  beyond  the 
Maple  Syrup  Whirlpool." 

They  all  proceeded  in  this  direction,  led  by  the  Sor- 
ghum ;  but,  in  spite  of  themselves,  they  beat  time  to 
the  kettle's  tune,  while  the  molasses  current  lisped  its 
crazy  numbers,  and  the  sugar-trees  moaned  it  to  the 
four  winds.  It  was,  of  course,  not  a  great  while  be- 
fore they  reached  the  bridge  and  started  to  cross  it. 

"  Where  does  this  take  us  to  ?"  asked  Johnny. 

"  Correctly  speaking,  it  takes  us  nowhere,"  laughed 
the  Librarian  ;  "  but  I  comprehend  your  real  meaning. 
Am  I  right  in  conjecturing  that  you  would  know  where 
you  will  be  if  you  cross  it  ?" 

"  You  are,"  responded  Johnny. 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  141 

"  Then  you  will  be  in  the  Land  of  Green  Cheese. 
Those  are  the  beautiful  cheese  meadows  yonder." 

Johnny  looked  across  the  river,  and  saw  the  motley 
landscape,  and  was  filled  with  delight.  Every  shade  of 
cheese  or  cheese  tone  was  distinctly  visible,  but  the  sage 
green  predominated,  giving  the  land  its  name.  There 
were  flowers  of  orange  and  yellow  cheese,  while  many 
of  the  cheese-trees  with  rind  bark  had  leaflets  of  these 
colors.  The  grass  and  clover  were,  of  course,  green. 

"  Most  little  boys  become  greatly  frightened  upon 
first  meeting  the  Tantamount,"  observed  the  King  ; 
"  but  you,"  he  continued,  addressing  Johnny,  "  must 
•  have  no  fear  of  him.  Although  he  is  a  sort  of  winged 
leopard,  with  fierce  glaring  eyes,  he  is  as  gentle  as  a 
dove — aye,  as  gentle  as  the  Sorghum  himself.  Can 
you  recite  for  us  the  poem,  founded  on  fact,  of  'Reuben 
L.  Smith  and  the  Tantamount,  or  Cheese  King  ?'  " 

"  I  can,"  replied  Tumpty  Turn  the  Rhymer. 

After  a  minute  or  two  of  silence  the  King  asked, 
"  Why  don't  you  do  it,  then  ?" 

"  Because  you  haven't  asked  me  to.  You  merely 
asked  me  if  I  could  do  it.  Now  if  you  want  me  to 
recite  the  poem,  just  say  so." 

"  So,"  said  the  King,  with  a  smile  at  his  real  or 
fancied  joke. 

And  then  Tumpty  Turn  the  Rhymer  laughingly  pro- 
nounced for  Johnny's  benefit  and  the  amusement  of  the 
others,  one  of  the  Moon  King's  favorite  comic  poems : 

REUBEN  L.  SMITH  AND  THE  TANTAMOUNT,  OR  CHEESE  KING. 

"  •  One  time  he  met  the  Tantamount 

Within  a  Stilton  lea, 
Not  far  from  the  molasses  fount, 
And  weakened  at  the  knee. 


142  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

" '  lie  trembled  in  his  scared  surprise, 

His  teeth  all  chattered,  too ; 
He  held  his  hands  before  his  eyes, 
Nor  peered  his  fingers  through. 

"'The  Tantamount  with  anger  fumed; 

From  kind  his  glances  far, 
And  Reuben's  hirsute  quick  assumed 
The  perpendicu-lar. 

" '  His  eyeballs  burned  like  living  coals 

That  lively  sparks  out-shoot, 
And  Reuben  quivered  to  his  soles 
As  though  he'd  taken  root. 

""Tis  when  the  Tantamount  becrooks 

His  spine,  and  glares  red-hot, 
And  flaunts  his  tail  with  goaded  looks, 
That  angry  he  is  not. 

" '  That  time  he  was  not  vexed  nor  mad, 

But  happy  through  and  through  ; 
To  meet  the  boy  he  was  so  glad 
He  knew  not  what  to  do. 

"  '  As  Reuben  chattered,  while  he  shook 

Like  jelly  on  a  plate, 
The  Cheese  King  from  his  pocket  took 
A  box  of  pills  elate. 

" '  And  gave  one  unto  Reuben,  who 

Not  knowing  what  to  say, 
The  Tantamount  then  shouted  to, 
"  Good-morrow  and  good-day  !" 

" '  The  Tantamount,  polite  and  proud, 

Removed  his  hat  forthwith, 
And  in  majestic  grandeur  bowed 
Adieu  to  R.  L.  Smith, 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  143 

" '  Whose  quaking  shaking  soon  was  still 

Upon  the  green-cheese  plains, 
All  owing  to  one  qui-nine  pill 
Of  half  a  dozen  grains.'  " 

When  Tumpty  Turn  the  Rhymer  had  finished,  Silver- 
smith the  Tenth  turned  to  Johnny,  and  said  : 

"  Do  not  be  alarmed  when  the  Tantamount  appears, 
for  he  always  looks  exceedingly  fierce  and  dangerous 
when  he  is  in  the  best  possible  humor;  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  he  is  extremely  ferocious  and  unsociable 
when  he  wears  the  sweetest,  serenest,  gentlest,  and 
most  loving  look." 

"  How  very  singular  !"  said  Johnny.  "  Is  there  any 
particular  reason  for  this  ?" 

"  There  is,"  replied  the  King — "  there  is." 

"  I  should  think,"  murmured  the  Owl,  "  that  some 
moon  poet  would  give  the  reason  in  verse." 
"  There  is  a  poem,"  replied  Tumpty  Turn  the  Rhy- 
mer, "  on  this  very  subject.  If  it  be  not  too  soon  after 
the  poem  I  just  recited  about  the  Tantamount,  it  would 
afford  me  genuine  happiness  to  favor  you  with  it." 

They  were  all  only  too  anxious  to  hear  it,  so  Tumpty 
Turn  drew  himself  up  and  sang : 

WHY  WHEN    HE'S    GLAD    HE    LOOKS    MAD,   AND    WHY    HE 
LOOKS  GLAD  WHEN  HE'S   MAD. 

" '  The  reason  the  Tantamount  dances 

When  his  eyes  blaze  a  vitreous  green, 
And  very  ferociously  prances 

At  the  time  he's  most  coy  and  serene ; 

" '  The  reason  a  tender  tear  drizzles 

Down  his  face  soothed  in  gentlest  repose, 
When  with  anger  he  frizzles  and  sizzles 
From  the  tip  of  his  tail  to  his  nose — 


144  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

" '  Is  that,  as  a  simple  diversion, 

His  dominion  so  lovely  of  cheese, 
He  may  rid,  without  any  exertion, 
Of  the  casual  rat  that  he  sees. 

"'The  rat  notes  his  caudal's  expansion, 

And  he  flies,  like  a  ball  to  the  mark, 
Down  the  sinuous  lane  to  his  mansion, 
Where  he  curls  himself  up  in  the  dark. 

"'But  when  the  old  Tantamount's  smiling 

Doth  the  rodent  come  forth  in  the  sun; 
Then  he  opens  his  smile  so  beguiling, 
And  Sir  Rat's  gobbled  up  like  a  bun.' " 

"  Nature  is  indeed  a  wonderful  thing,"  said  Johnny, 
"  to  provide  the  Tantamount  with  such  subtle  power 
to  prevent  his  dominion  from  being  devoured.  But 
what  are  those  hills  yonder  that  rise  so  grandly  from 
the  plains?" 

"Those,"  murmured  the  Sorghum,  in  admiration, 
"are  the  Mountains  of  the  Moon,  of  which  you  may 
have  heard — the-  great  cheese  mountains." 

He  paused  as  though  under  a  spell,  for  at  that  mo- 
ment a  bright  light  flashed  from  the  top  of  the  highest 
of  the  cheese  mountain-peaks,  and  it  was  soon  evident 
that  there  was  a  volcano.  It  was  not  long  before 
great  waves  of  flame  shot  into  the  air  in  angry  billows, 
and  bathed  in  a  rosy  glow  every  valley  in  the  Land  of 
Green  Cheese.  Higher  and  higher  the  flames  climbed, 
and  every  moment  the  scene  became  grander. 

"Are  the  mountains  going  to  be  melted  into  naught?" 
asked  Johnny. 

"  They  are  not  going  to  be  melted  into  naught,"  re- 
plied the  Roasted  Pig ;  "  they  are  going  to  be  melted 
into  Welsh  rabbits." 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  147 

Before  he  said  any  more,  or  before  Johnny  could 
comment  upon  the  information,  there  was  a  rustle  in 
one  of  the  cheese  thickets,  and  out  popped  a  flock  of 
the  prettiest  Welsh  rabbits  Johnny  ever  saw.  And 
right  behind  them  came  the  Tantamount,  the  King  of 
the  Land  of  Green  Cheese.  From  the  way  he  lashed 
his  tail,  which  cut  the  grass  down  like  a  scythe,  and 
by  the  blazing  of  his  emerald  eyes,  and  by  the  great 
cloud  of  cheese  he  kicked  up  as  he  moved  madly  along, 
it  was  evident  that  he  was  in  the  best  of  spirits. 

"  How  do  you  do  ?"  shouted  Silversmith  the  Tenth. 

The  Tantamount  was  greatly  pleased  at  meeting 
the  merry  party,  which  he  joined  with  the  "Welsh 
rabbits,  all  of  them  skipping  about  in  the  liveliest 
manner. 

"  How  are  you  all  ?"  he  asked. 

"Very  well,"  they  replied,  with  the  exception  of  the 
French  Poodle  that  couldn't  speak  English.  He  simply 
said,  "  Tres  bien  /" 

Johnny  was  not  at  all  frightened  at  the  Tantamount, 
which  greatly  pleased  Silversmith  the  Tenth  and  the 
Sorghum,  his  old  rival  for  the  Molasses  River  crown. 
The  Tantamount  was  greatly  pleased  at  meeting  John- 
ny, for  he  snapped  his  tail  in  the  air  until  it  sounded 
like  a  pistol-shot,  and  gnashed  his  teeth  in  the  most 
ferocious  manner.  He  was  so  glad  to  meet  the  Owl, 
and  to  know  that  it  was  back  for  good,  that  he  lifted 
the  great  white  bird  in  his  paws,  and  laid  his  gleaming 
teeth  against  its  wings. 

"I  should  be  so  happy  to  see  you  all  at  Cheese- 
borough  House  !"  observed  the  Tantamount. 

"Where  is  that?"  asked  Johnny. 

"  It  is  over  on  Green  Cheese  Lake,  and  is  my  pal- 
ace." 


148 


THE    MOON    PRINCE 


"  I'll  never  get  over  it — I'll  never  get  over  it !"  ex- 
claimed Silversmith  the  Tenth. 

They  looked,  and  saw  him  dancing. 

"  That  awful  tune  has  worked  down  into  my  feet, 
and  I  must  dance  for  relief." 


"HE    LIFTED    THE    GREAT  WHITE    BIRD    IN    HIS    PAWS." 


"  Is  it  the  horrible  whistling  that  follows  the  line, 
'  When  the  cotton's—'  " 

"  Softly  growing  on  the  sheep,"  broke  in  Silver- 
smith the  Tenth. 

"  That's  it,"  they  all  shouted.  «  Where  did  you 
hear  it  for  the  first  time  ?" 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  149 

"  I  don't  remember,"  murmured  the  Tantamount, 
"  where  I  heard  it  for  the  first  time ;  but  I  would  be 
willing  to  erect  a  sumptuous  monument  on  the  spot 
where  I  shall  hear  it  for  the  last  time." 

All  this  time  the  King  was  dancing,  and  whistling 
the  tune,  which  also  attacked  the  Welsh  rabbits,  and 
set  them  capering  about  as  insanely  as  were  the  Phil- 
osophic Farmer  and  the  rest  of  the  party. 

But  at  the  suggestion  of  the  Tantamount,  who  evi- 
dently believed  in  the  economy  of  labor,  they  all 
danced  in  the  direction  of  Cheeseborough  House, 
which  stood  some  miles  distant,  on  the  picturesque 
margin  of  Green  Cheese  Lake.  At  length  they 
reached  it,  and  seated  themselves  beneath  a  spreading 
green-cheese  tree,  where  they  waited  with  watering 
mouths  for  the  waiters  to  bring  on  the  Welsh  rabbits 
that  had  been  killed  and  cooked  for  the  occasion,  and 
whose  savory  fumes  they  could  scent  on  the  breeze 
that  floated  from  the  direction  of  the  culinary  depart- 
ment. 


XII 


"!T  is  a  rare  treat,"  said  the  Tantamount,  "  when  a 
volcano  occurs  in  one  of  the  Cheese  Mountains,  for  as 
the  cheese  melts  it  is  quickly  formed  into  Welsh  rab- 
bits, and  upon  every  such  occasion  I  give  a  dinner  to 
my  friends,  known  as  the  Feast  of  Welsh  Rabbits. 
It  is  seven  years  since  the  last,  which  occurred  upon 
Mount  Camembert,  and  this  eruption  of  Mount  Pot 
fills  me  with  joy  indeed,  as  you  may  see  by  my  appar- 
ent fierceness. 

"Oui,  oui,  oui, 
Fromage  de  Brie," 

sang  the  French  Poodle  that  couldn't  speak  English. 

At  this  moment  the  waiters  appeared  with  the 
Welsh  rabbits,  and  it  was  astonishing  to  see  the  Tant- 
amount carve  them.  In  less  than  half  a  minute  they 
were  all  served,  and  then  the  waiters  came  on  with  oth- 
ers, which  seemed  even  more  delicious  than  the  first. 

They  were  all  so  hungry  that  there  was  little  or  no 
conversation  until  after  the  meal,  when  they  took  a 
look  through  Cheeseborough  House  at  the  invitation 
of  the  hospitable  Tantamount.  It  was  built  mostly  of 
buff  cheese,  with  green  veins  running  through  it  in 
such  a  way  that  it  bore  a  very  striking  resemblance  to 
the  kind  of  marble  which  is  highly  esteemed  for 
clocks. 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  151 

Beautiful  cheese  boudoirs  led  between  portieres  of 
cheese-cloth  to  sumptuous  cheese  stair-ways.  There 
were  sofas  and  divans  of  the  same  material,  but  of 
different  colors,  so  that  the  artistic  effect  was  highly 
satisfactory. 

"  We  thank  you  heartily  for  so  sumptuously  enter- 
taining us,"  said  Silversmith  the  Tenth.  "  I  don't 
think  I  ever  before  tasted  a  Welsh  rabbit  so  artistically 
cooked  and  served ;  and  as  for  Cheeseborough  House, 
it  is  something  of  which  the  moon  may  proudly  boast, 
even  unto  the  smallest  detail  of  appointment  and 
architecture." 

The  fiery  ferocity  displayed  by  the  Tantamount  was 
proof  positive  of  his  heart -felt  appreciation  of  the 
Moon  King's  praises. 

"But  would  you  like  to  go  with  us?"  asked  the 
Moon  King. 

"  Where  ?"  asked  the  Tantamount. 

"  To  the  Moon-beam  Spring." 

The  Tantamount  said  he  would  be  only  too  happy 
to  visit  this  great  spring  that  furnished  the  moon-beams 
to  light  the  earth.  It  was  indeed  a  wonderful  curios- 
ity of  nature,  was  this  spring,  whose  light  bubbled  up 
continually  from  the  moon,  and,  flowing  some  dis- 
tance through  a  hollow,  fell  in  a  grand  cascade  over 
the  rim  of  the  great  silver  planet,  to  illuminate  the 
earth. 

It  was  therefore  with  great  delight  that  they  started 
out  together  in  the  direction  of  the  Moon-beam  Spring. 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  the  elastic  tree  ?"  asked  the 
Tantamount. 

"  Never,  never,  never,"  replied  the  King,  nervously. 

"  There  it  is,"  said  the  Tantamount,  who,  being  very 
nimble  and  catlike,  pulled  a  branch  down  until  it  was 


152  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

stretched  as  thin  as  a  broom  handle ;  then  he  sprang 
off  the  ground,  and  when  the  elastic  limb  flew  back 
into  place,  he  let  go,  and  was  shot  a  hundred  feet  into 
the  air.  He  whirled  about  like  a  leaf  in  the  storm, 
and  to  the  surprise  of  all,  especially  the  Roasted  Pig, 
whose  eye-glasses  were  covered  with  tears,  he  landed 
on  his  feet,  like  the  quadruped  whose  characteristics 
he  possessed. 

"  Be  ready,  Sorghum,  be  ready,"  said  Silversmith. 

"  Ready  for  what  ?"  asked  the  Sorghum. 

"  To  defend  us  in  case  the  Tantamount  sees  fit  to 
attack  us."  The  Roasted  Pig  just  laughed,  and  the 
King  said,  "  I'm  afraid  the  Tantamount  may  seem  suf- 
ficiently aggrieved  to  assume  a  hostile  front,  and  eat 
us  up  before  I  can  turn  him  into  a  tenpenny  nail,  and 
drive  him  into  a  tree  right  to  the  head." 

"  You  need  have  no  fear,"  replied  the  Sorghum ; 
"  he  has  a  very  keen  appreciation  of  the  ridiculous, 
and  knows  what  should  be  laughed  at  and  what  should 
not.  Now  this  being  a  funny  act  on  his  part,  he 
naturally  doesn't  expect  you  to  weep.  On  the  con- 
trary, having  performed  a  dangerous  yet  queer  acro- 
batic feat  for  your  amusement,  he  will  feel  disappointed 
if  he  is  not  properly  applauded.  Upon  arriving  at 
such  a  conclusion  he  may  feel  sufficiently  piqued  to 
devour  one  or  two  of  the  party  from  motives  of  self- 
respect.  I  advise  you  all  to  laugh  heartily." 

Following  the  advice  of  the  Sorghum,  they  all 
laughed  with  might  and  main,  and  swayed  to  and  fro 
in  an  ecstasy  of  merriment,  which  greatly  pleased  the 
Tantamount. 

At  this  moment  the  wind  began  to  blow,  and  the 
air  was  full  of  dust,  or  rather  grated  Parmesan.  When 
this  cloud  whirled  by,  they  were  all  attracted  by  the 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  153 

queer  antics  of  the  elastic  tree.  As  it  swayed  in  the 
wind,  it  would  stretch  to  about  five  times  its  size  when 
in  repose,  and  when  the  wind  subsided,  the  tree  would 
naturally  fly  back  to  its  original  position.  At  one 
time,  when  it  was  out-stretched  until  it  could  stretch 
no  farther,  a  pretty  little  briefinch  lit  upon  one  of  its 
branches  and  began  to  sing.  But  when  the  tree  flew 
back,  it  did  so  so  suddenly  that  the  poor  little  brie- 
finch  had  its  legs  snapped  off  close  to  the  talons,  which 
remained  encircling  the  limb  upon  which  it  had  been 
perched. 

"  Being  an  amphibious  bird,"  said  the  Tantamount, 
"  it  will  have  to  take  to  the  water  now." 

"  But  how  will  it  paddle  ?"  asked  Flowerbell. 

"  It  will  not  paddle,"  laughed  the  Tantamount ;  "  it 
will  know  enough  to  hold  its  wings  aloft  like  sails,  be- 
cause it  is  endowed  with  aquatic  instincts;  but  its 
feet  will  grow  on  again." 

Suddenly  the  King  burst  forth  in  the  following 

RHAPSODY. 

"  Oh,  what  rare  luck !  oh,  what  rare  luck ! 

While  his  future  feet  are  growing, 
Just  like  a  duck — just  like  a  duck 
O'er  the  green  lake  to  be  blowing! 

"  How  fortunate — how  fortunate 

That  he  can  take  to  the  water ! 
Oh,  happy  fate !  oh,  happy  fate ! 
To  be  full  of  joy  he  oughter! 

"Oh,  sweet  briefinch,  oh,  sweet  briefinch, 

Your  beautiful  wings  of  orange — 
My  muse  I  pinch — my  muse  I  pinch 
In  vain  for  a  rhyme  for  '  orange.'  " 


154  THE    MOON    PRIXCE 

"  There  isn't  a  rhyme  for  '  orange,'  is  there  ?"  asked 
the  King. 

"  None,  sire,"  replied  the  authority,  Tumpty  Turn 
the  Rhymer. 

"  Then  what  shall  I  do  ?" 

"  Why  don't  you  try  '  lemon  '  ?"  asked  the  facetious 
Owl. 

The  King  pretended  he  didn't  hear  the  remark,  and 
the  Librarian,  fearing  there  might  be  trouble,  turned 
the  drift  of  the  conversation  by  asking  the  distance  to 
the  Moon-beam  Spring. 

"  Three  English  cheese  miles,"  responded  the  Phil- 
osophic Farmer. 

"  And  can  you  catch  fish  in  this  spring  ?"  asked 
Johnny. 

"  Silver-fish  !"  exclaimed  the  Tantamount  in  reply. 

"  Oh,  look  !''  exclaimed  Johnny. 

The  King  gazed  all  around — up  in  the  air  and  over 
the  cheese  landscape — and  then,  seeing  nothing,  began 
to  look  in  his  pockets  as  upon  a  former  occasion. 

"  Oh  no,  not  there,"  said  Johnny. 

"  Where,  where,  where  ?"  asked  the  King,  at  the 
same  time  looking  all  around. 

Johnny  pointed  to  a  thicket,  and  from  the  same  ap- 
peared a  very  curious-looking  animal,  wearing  the  dis- 
consolate, languid  expression  peculiar  to  the  barn-yard 
fowl  that  has  remained  without  during  a  cold,  rainy 
night. 

"  Why,  that  is  the  Perforated  Cat,"  said  the  Tanta- 
mount. 

It  was  indeed  a  curious-looking  animal,  and  but  for 
the  timely  information  of  the  Tantamount,  might  have 
passed  itself  off  on  the  picnickers  for  a  woodchuck  or 
a  Welsh  rabbit.  On  each  side  of  the  Perforated  Cat 


THE    MOON    PRINCE 


155 


was  a  dainty  landscape  embroidered  in  finest  silk,  and 
the  foliage  always  seemed  to  be  moving. 

"  Come,  explain  yourself  for  the  edification  of  Silver- 
smith the  Tenth  and  his  merry  picknickers,"  demanded 
the  Tantamount,  "  or,  rather,  give  us  your  history." 

Thereupon  the  Perforated  Cat  spoke  as  follows : 


"THE  PERFORATED  CAT  BOWED  POLITELY." 


"  Originally  I  was  a  pleasant  woollen  cat,  with  bead 
eyes,  and  was  used  as  an  ornament  in  the  library.  I 
used  to  sit  by  the  day  and  watch  the  crimson  mouse 
that  was  used  for  a  red-ink  pen-wiper.  I  was  made 
in  a  sitting  posture,  and  for  that  reason  could  not  run 
or  stretch  myself  out,  which  made  it  impossible  for 
me  to  spring  upon  the  mouse.  You  will  notice  in  my 
present  peculiar  limp  the  fault  of  the  person  that  al- 
lowed the  scissors  to  slip  in  cutting  me  out.  Had 
this  not  happened,  it  would  not  have  been  necessary 
to  gather  me  in  so  much  in  the  sewing  of  my  off  hind- 


156  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

leg.  I  am  not  a  machine-made  cat,  but  this  piece  of 
information  is  perhaps  of  no  interest.  At  present  I 
have  but  one  bead  eye  left,  and  as  the  thread  that 
holds  it  in  the  socket  is  becoming  loose,  and  my  eye 
is  moving  about  in  the  wind  whichever  way  it  blows, 
I  shall  naturally  feel  anxious  until  it  is  properly  sewed 
in,  and  the  question  of  my  possible  blindness  put  be- 
yond all  peradventure." 

"  Don't  ramble  so  much,"  said  the  Tantamount ; 
"go  back  to  where  you  said,  'which  made  it  impos- 
sible for  me  to  spring  upon  the  mouse,'  and  continue 
in  a  direct  and  simple  manner  until  you  have  explained 
the  beautiful  landscape  panels  that  so  delicately  il- 
luminate your  ribs." 

The  Perforated  Cat  bowed  politely,  and  continued  : 
"Which  made  it  impossible  for  me  to  spring  npon 
the  mouse.  Not  being  able  to  walk,  I  did  my  best  to 
coax  the  mouse  within  reach,  but  as  he  was  fastened  to 
a  small  octagonal  piece  of  cloth,  he,  too,  was  unable  to 
move.  It  made  my  red  silk  mouth  water  to  see  that 
mouse  lying  there  with  such  beautiful  indifference. 
Sometimes  the  boys  in  the  house  would  hold  me  up 
in  the  air  for  the  real  dog  to  jump  at,  and  on  one  oc- 
casion he  caught  me  in  his  teeth,  and  my  internal  in- 
juries were  excruciating  in  the  extreme.  In  tossing 
me  back  and  forth  one  day,  one  of  the  boys  failed  to 
catch  rae^and  I  was  cast  into  a  tub  of  water  and 
soaked  through.  I  was  dried  upon  the  top  of  the 
kitchen  stove,  and  in  the  process  I  lost  my  form, 
which  I  have  not  fully^regained  even  to  this  day.  Do 
not  I  look  as  though  drawn  up  by  rheumatism  here 
on  the  left  ?" 

"You're  wandering  again,"  observed  the  Tanta- 
mount. "  Now  oblige  me  by  going  back  to  '  small 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  157 

octagonal  piece  of  cloth,  he,  too,  was  unable  to 
move.'  " 

The  Perforated  Cat  apologized,  and  went  on :  "  Small 
octagonal  piece  of  cloth,  he,  too,  was  unable  to  move. 
Well,  one  day  the  family  went  away  for  the  summer, 
and  during  their  absence — " 

"Its  absence  !"  exclaimed  the  Tantamount,  "  '  family ' 
being  a  collective  noun." 

"  Its  absence,"  continued  the  Perforated  Cat,  with 
a  mortified  air,  "  the  moths  got  through  my  cloth 
epidermis,  and  devoured  the  wool  with  which  I  was 
stuffed,  and  afterwards  ate  their  way  out  through  me. 
As  each  moth  left  a  hole,  I  of  course  became  a  perfo- 
rated cat.  Without  my  wool  stuffing  I  fell  down, 
being  quite  unable  to  stand.  It  was  on  the  return  of 
the  family,  which  is  a  collective  noun,  that  Lulu  re- 
stuffed  me,  and  then  embroidered  these  landscapes  on 
my  sides.  I  will  say  that  when  I  breathe  the  air 
passes  out  through  these  perforations,  and  keeps  the 
silk  leaves  and  grasses  in  motion.  Do  you  notice 
the  cat-bird  perched  on  the  muscat  vine  in  the  lateral 
valley  on  my  left  side  ?" 

They  said  nothing  in  reply. 

"  I  like  your  refined  manners  very  much,"  observed 
the  Perforated  Cat,  sarcastically,  "and  I  shall  now 
teach  you  a  dancing-lesson." 

"  What !  do  you  dance  ?"  asked  pretty  little  Rose- 
flake. 

"  I  do  not ;  but  when  I  fasten  my  disconsolate  look 
upon  a  person,  that  person  has  to  dance  until  I  take 
it  off." 

Here  the  Perforated  Cat  cast  the  most  peculiar  woe- 
begone expression  ever  seen  upon  the  picnickers,  and 
the  spell  was  such  that  before  they  knew  it,  they  were 


158  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

all  dancing  as  hard  as  they  did  under  the  influence  of 
Dance,  the  music  -  kettle  of  the  queer  little  Manikin- 
mender.  And  the  Perforated  Cat  continued  its  dis- 
consolate look  so  long  that  when  she  changed  it  into 
her  happy  expression,  they  had  danced  off  many 
pounds  of  flesh. 

As  suddenly  as  it  appeared,  the  Perforated  Cat  van- 
ished ;  and  they  all  commented  upon  it  at  great  length, 
and  from  all  stand-points. 

"  I  only  trust  it  may  not  discover  Moon-beam  Spring, 
and  catch  the  silver-fish,"  moaned  the  Tantamount. 

"  How  far  is  this  Moon  -  beam  Spring  anyhow  ?" 
groaned  Silversmith  the  Tenth.  "  We  have  been  walk- 
ing from  one  end  of  the  moon  to  the  other,  and  it 
doesn't 'appear  to  be  any  nearer  than  when  we  started." 

"  It  is  just  on  the  other  side  of  that  Gruyere  shrub- 
bery." 

When  the  Tantamount  had  given  this  information, 
they  all  redoubled  their  steps,  and  in  the  course  of 
ten  or  fifteen  minutes  they  stood  upon  the  margin  of 
this  magic  body  of  never  -  failing  moon -beams.  Al- 
though called  a  spring,  it  was,  properly  speaking,  a 
lake.  It  bubbled  as  though  boiling,  so  great  was  the 
action  of  the  moon-shine  in  coming  up  out  of  the  in- 
terior of  the  moon.  It  seemed  to  flow  in  an  easterly 
direction,  the  tide  never  turning,  but  continuing  down 
to  the  edge  of  the  moon,  where  it  flowed  over  in  a 
silver  cascade  and  lit  the  earth. 

The  Tantamount  ascended  the  highest  tree  like  a 
cat,  and  when  at  the  top  dived  into  the  Moon-beam 
Spring  with  a  shout  of  joy.  When  he  swam  ashore 
and  came  out  he  looked  as  though  covered  with  pearl, 
but  this  he  soon  wiped  off  with  the  piece  of  magic 
cheese-cloth  he  always  carried  with  him  to  keep  off  evil. 


THE    MOON    PRINCE 


159 


Suddenly  the  moon  became  dark. 

"  How  long  is  this  eclipse  going  to  last  ?" 

"  Seven  minutes  and  three  seconds  and  one-eighth," 
replied  the  Tantamount,  with  the  air  of  an  astronomer. 

But  in  the  dark  the  Moon  Spring  looked  even  love- 
lier than  before.  It  was  the  only  part  of  the  moon 
that  was  light,  and  out  upon  its  bosom  a  boat  of  pearl 
suddenly  appeared,  floating  like  a  swan. 

"  Oh,  look  at  that  pretty  boat !  Where  is  it  going  ?" 
said  Johnny. 

"  Back  to  the  earth,  to  take  you  home,"  replied  the 
King.  "  We  are  very  sorry  to  part  with  you  and  to 
break  the  news  so  suddenly.  Have  you  ever  heard  of 
such  a  malady  as  moon -madness?" 

"  I  have,"  replied  Johnny,  sadly. 

"  Well,"  continued  Silversmith  the  Tenth,  "  as  you 
don't  belong  to  the  moon 
that  malady  would  at- 
tack you  inside  of  an- 
other day,  and  although 
we  dearly  love  to  have 
you  with  us,  as  you  may 
observe  by  the  sad  ex- 
pression of  Roseflake 
and  the  heart-felt  tears 
of  our  dear  Sir  Roasted, 
yet  we  feel  constrained 
for  your  own  good  to 
send  you  on  what  must 
be  your  happy  journey 
home." 

Here  there  was  general  weeping,  in  which  the  Owl 
joined. 

"  Think    of    me   whenever    you    wander   about    in 


THE    OWL    WKEPS    AT   JOHNNY  S 
DEPARTURE. 


160  THE    MOON    PRINCE 

Painter's  Woods,"  sobbed  the  Owl.  "  Think  of  me 
when  in  the  rosy  spring-time  you  gather  the  trailing 
arbutus  and  meek  anemone.  Think  of  me  in  the  au- 
tumn, when  the  nuts  patter  on  the  dry  leaves,  and  the 
frost  silvers  the  empty  nest  in  Johnson's  old  persim- 
mon-tree. Think  of  me,  think — " 

Here  the  Owl  buried  its  face  in  its  wings,  for  fear  of 
being  considered  weak,  and  when  it  looked  up  Johnny 
stood  upon  the  deck  of  the  beautiful  boat  of  pearl,  as 
it  moved  down  the  Moon-beam  River. 

They  were  fading  fast  away,  even  though  the  eclipse 
had  vanished,  but  Johnny  could  see  the  Roasted  Pig 
wiping  his  eye-glasses,  and  could  hear  them  singing 
together, 

"  When  the  cotton's  softly  growing  on  the  sheep." 

After  this  the  unearthly  whistling  was  started,  and 
while  they  all  danced  on  the  shores  of  the  Land  of 
Green  Cheese  Johnny  himself  joined  in,  and  no  doubt 
kept  step  with  the  feet  he  could  no  longer  see. 

Down  the  Moon-beam  River  he  went  sadly,  and  after 
the  pearl  boat  had  passed  over  the  falls  it  descended 
swiftly,  but  as  gently  as  a  dream.  It  was  the  same 
boat  in  which  he  had  sailed  to  the  moon,  and  was  quite 
as  luxurious  and  musical  as  on  that  happy  occasion. 
AVhen  the  earth  appeared  in  sight  it  looked,  as  upon 
his  former  voyage,  very  much  like  a  two-grain  quinine 
pill. 

His  great  fear  that  the  boat  might  land  him  in  China 
was  dissipated  when  he  saw  objects  with  which  he  was 
familiar,  and  which  grew  more  numerous,  until  the 
boat  actually  floated  into  his  father's  garden  and  rested 
upon  a  bed  of  white  hyacinths,  where  he  stepped  out. 
When  he  touched  the  ground  he  was  again  his  natural 


THE    MOON    PRINCE  163 

size.  He  turned  to  take  a  last  look  at  the  dainty  boat 
of  pearl,  only  to  see  it  dissolve  softly  into  moonlight 
and  vanish. 

Then,  as  he  wandered  up  the  box-fringed  walk,  he 
thought  of  all  the  silvery  beauties  of  the  moon  that 
would  shortly  melt,  like  the  magic  boat  of  pearl,  in  the 
sunnier  beauties  of  his  own  beloved  home. 


A  DAY  IN  WAXLAND 


A  DAY  IN  WAXLAND 


ITTLE  TOMMY  HAWK  had  been  out  in 
the  woods  all  day  playing  Indian.     The 
chief  of  the  tribe,  Forty -six  Stuffed  Crows, 
had  sent  him  across  the  small  stream  of 
water  that  ran  through  the  wood  behind 
the  school-house,  to  see  if  he  could  discover  the  trail 
of  the  fugitive  who  had  just  crossed  to  make  good  his 
escape. 

Tommy  Hawk  was  so  diligent  in  his  search  among 
the  bushes,  that  before  he  was  aware  of  it  he  found 
that  it  was  impossible  to  retrace  his  steps.  In  other 
words,  he  was  lost ;  and  in  vain  did  he  endeavor  to 
communicate  with  Forty -six  Stuffed  Crows  and  his 
braves  by  shouting.  He  would  have  wept  if  he  could 
have  done  so  consistently.  But  he  knew  it  would  be 
entirely  out  of  place  for  an  Indian  to  weep  especially 
in  the  devious  tangles  of  the  forest.  So  he  tried  to 
climb  a  tree  to  learn  his  exact  whereabouts,  for  he  was 
completely  turned  around. 

On  his  way  up  the  tree  he  met  a  bear,  and  as  the 
Bear  was  on  the  way  down,  and  there  was  not  room  for 


168  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAN0 

them  to  pass  each  other,  it  was  necessary  for  Tommy 
to  show  his  politeness,  and  descend  in  order  that  the 
Bear  might  reach  the  ground  without  interference.  Of 
course  Tommy  was  in  reality  afraid  of  the  Bear,  but 
being  in  the  guise  of  an  Indian,  he  could  not  consist- 
ently show  his  fear. 

"  Who  are  you,  anyhow  ?"  asked  Tommy,  boldly. 

And  the  Bear  stood  on  his  hinder  legs,  and  with  a 
sunny  smile  replied : 

"  I'm  a  jolly  old  bear, 

And  I  haven't  a  care 
When  I'm  dining  on  cranberry  pie. 

Over  hedges  I  vault 

With  a  gay  somersault, 
When  the  wily  fur-hunter  is  nigh. 

Oh,  my  soul's  full  of  song, 

And  I'm  happy  as  long 
As  the  wide-blowing  forest's  my  lair. 

With  a  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha, 

And  a  tra,  la,  la,  la — 
I'm  a  jolly  old  cinnamon  bear." 

Then  the  Bear  began  to  whistle  a  lively  tune,  to  which 
he  danced  in  a  most  graceful  manner. 

"  You  are  certainly  a  very  singular  bear,"  said  Tommy. 
And  the  Bear  replied  : 

"  I'm  a  singular  bear,  with  a  spirit  sublime, 

And  the  cause  of  my  many  woes 
Is  that  I  can  only  talk  in  rhyme, 
And  can't  say  a  word  in  prose." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  cannot  utter  any- 
thing that  does  not  rhyme  ?"  asked  Tommy. 
And  the  Bear  said, 


A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND  169 

"  I  cannot  utter  a  single 
Sentence  that  does  not  jingle." 

"  I  think  I  can  teach  you  to  speak  in  prose,"  said 
Tommy. 

"  How, 

Now  ?" 
asked  the  Bear. 

"  Let's  bear  you  say  just  one  word  ?" 

"May 

Day," 
replied  the  Bear. 

"  Say  a  word  that  does  not  rhyme  ?"  said  Tommy. 

"  I  would 

If  I  could," 
replied  the  Bear. 

"  How  old  are  you  ?"  asked  Tommy. 
And  the  Bear  responded, 

"  I'll  be  seven  upon  my  next  birthday, 
Which  occurs  on  the  twenty-fourth  of  May." 

Tommy  Hawk  had  seen  many  bears  before.  He  had 
seen  bears  in  menagerie  cages,  and  he  had  seen  stuffed 
bears  in  front  of  fur  stores,  and  he  had  had  toy  bears 
carved  out  of  wood,  and  he  had  read  many  stories  about 
bears ;  but  this  chance  acquaintance  was  altogether  the 
queerest  bear  he  had  ever  seen  or  heard  of.  The  idea 
of  a  bear  not  only  being  able  to  talk,  but  being  able  to 
utter  nothing  but  rhymes  as  good  as  any  he  could  find 
in  any  of  his  nursery  books  ! 

He  could  scarcely  realize  where  he  was  or  what  he 
was  doing.  He  went  so  far  as  to  stick  a  pin  into  him- 


170  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

self  to  make  sure  that  he  was  not  dreaming.  Then  he 
said  to  the  Bear :  "  My  name  is  Tommy  Hawk,  and  I 
belong  to  the  Suppawnee  tribe  of  Indians.  Our  chief's 
name  is  Forty-six  Stuffed  Crows.  That  is  not  his  right 
name,  though.  His  right  name  is  Willie  Kimberley. 
We  are  only  make-believe  Indians,  and  that  is  the  rea- 
son I  am  lost.  Don't  you  think  it  very  sad  ?" 

"  The  story's  sad  that  you  impart ; 
Indeed  it  almost  breaks  my  heart." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Tommy  Hawk  knew  that  he  had 
seen  men  perform  in  bear-skins  at  the  pantomime,  and 
he  was  not  at  all  certain  that  this  was  a  real  bear. 

Perhaps  it  might  be  some  one  with  whom  he  was  well 
acquainted  masquerading  in  the  woods,  and  probably 
acting  as  a  decoy  to  attract  other  bears.  One  thing 
was  certain :  the  Bear  was  a  bear  of  refinement.  Tom- 
my had  never  heard  a  bear  talk  before,  but  if  they  all 
talked  with  the  ease  and  grace  of  this  particular  Bear, 
he  concluded  that  they  must  be  very  desirable  com- 
panions. 

"Are  you  really  a  bear  ?"  asked  Tommy,  suddenly. 

The  Bear  sang : 

"  If  I  am  not  a  cinnamon  bear 

From  my  stub-tail  to  my  cranium, 
Why,  then  I  simply  must  declare 
The  geranium's  not  a  geranium." 

"  When  are  you  happiest  ?"  asked  Tommy,  who  was 
really  at  a  loss  for  something  to  say. 
This  was  the  bear's  response : 

"  I'm  happiest  when  I  lightly  bound 

Beneath  the  hickory-tree ; 
I'm  happiest  when  my  pet  cub's  found 
A-climbing  upon  my  knee. 


A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND  171 

But  the  thing  I  like  such  a  great  big  bit, 
That  it  makes  me  smile  till  I  cry, 

Is  videlicet,  namely,  to  wit, 
As  follows:  cranberry  pie." 

"  It  will  pretty  soon  be  time  for  you  to  lie  in  a  tor- 
pid state,  will  not  it  ?"  asked  Tommy. 

"  I  never  lie  in  a  torpid  state ; 

When  the  weather  waxes  cool 
To  Waxland  I  fly  at  an  awful  rate — 
I'm  the  King  of  Waxland's  fool," 

replied  the  Bear,  executing  a  lively  step. 

"  The  King  of  Waxland's  fool  ?"  repeated  Tommy. 

"  The  King  of  Waxland's  fool,  yes,  yes — 

I'm  the  King  of  Waxland's  fool; 
His  life  with  merry  jests  I  bless 

On  evenings  soft  and  cool. 
I  make  him,  when  he's  in  distress, 

Like  a  boy  let  loose  from  school. 
I'm  the  King  of  Waxland's  fool,  yes,  yes — 
I'm  the  King  of  Waxland's  fool." 

"  Who  is  the  King  of  Waxland  ?"  asked  Tommy. 

"He  is  the  King  of  Waxland, 
And  not  the  King  of  Flaxland." 

"  But  where  is  Waxland  ?"  asked  Tommy. 

"  Just  walk  a  bit  down  yonder  lane,  and  near  a  spring  you'll  see, 

Some  ten  feet  in  diameter,  a  waving  sycamore, 
And  on  its  trunk  you  quickly  give  a  rap,  and  you  will  be 
Most  astonished  when  it  opens  like  an  ordinary  door. 

"  When  the  portal  softly  closes,  and  you  find  yourself  inside, 
You  discover  you  are  standing  in  a  long  and  narrow  aisle; 


172  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

And  if  you  will  take  the  trouble  down  the  same  to  lightly 

glide, 

You  will  shortly  be  in  Waxland,  which  I  think  it's  worth 
your  while. 

"  You  will  see  the  gay  wax  tapir  spinning  lightly  on  his  nose ; 
You  will  see  the  fair  wax  dolphin  on  a  silver  waxen  sea ; 
And,  besides,  you'll  see  some  wonders  which  no  mortal,  I  sup- 
pose, 

Ever  witnessed,  if  you'll  blindly,  if  you'll  kindly,  come  with 
me." 

"Ah,  I'll  be  glad  to  go  with  you,  good  Mr.  Bear," 
said  Tommy,  "  because  I  am  lost,  and  cannot  find  my 
way  home,  and  I  am  sure  I  shall  feel  happy  with  such 
a  kind,  gentlemanly,  refined  bear  as  yourself." 

The  Bear  smiled,  but  did  not  reply,  and  they  walked 
on  together  towards  the  sycamore  which  the  Bear  had 
told  Tommy  was  the  entrance  to  Waxland.  The  whole 
thing  was  so  queer  to  the  little  Indian  brave  of  the 
Suppawnee  tribe,  that  he  did  not  know  what  to  say 
even  when  he  felt  it  necessary  to  say  something.  Fi- 
nally he  felt  that  he  must  say  something,  as  he  feared 
that  the  Bear,  if  his  mind  were  not  diverted  by  pleas- 
antries, might  become  despondent,  forget  himself,  and 
devour  his  painted  companion.  At  the  same  time,  he 
thought  that  perhaps  the  whole  story  of  Waxland  was 
a  mere  ruse  of  the  Bear's  to  inveigle  him  into  his  cave 
for  the  purpose  of  converting  him  into  a  dinner.  He 
fancied  he  could  see  Mr.  Bear  sitting  at  the  head  of 
the  table  carving  him,  and  Mrs.  Bear  at  the  other  end 
pouring  the  tea,  and  the  little  bears  sitting  in  their 
high  chairs,  with  their  mouths  open,  and  smiles  of 
happy  anticipation  dripping  down  on  their  pinafores. 

"Are  not  you  often  afraid  you  will  be  captured  and 
converted  into  hair  grease  ?" 


A   DAY    IN    WAXLAND  173 

"  I'll  never  be  bear  grease, 

I'll  never  be  hair  grease ; 

I'll  never  be  bear  oil, 

I'll  never  be  hair  oil," 

replied  the  Bear,  and  he  forthwith  executed  a  dance 
with  more  agility  and  grace  than  is  usually  seen  in  the 
ursine  race. 

They  were  now  pretty  near  the  old  sycamore,  and 
the  Bear  was  feeling  very  lively,  for  he  danced  as  he 
walked,  and  even  when  a  butternut  dropped  and  came 
in  contact  with  his  nose,  it  did  not  put  him  in  an  ill- 
humor.  Turning  a  bend  in  the  clearing,  the  sycamore 
appeared  in  sight.  It  was  a  gnarled  old  tree  that  no 
one  would  have  taken  for  anything  but  an  ordinary 
specimen,  except  that  it  was  one  of  unusual  size. 
When  it  came  into  the  Bear's  vision  he  seemed  very 
happy,  for  he  began  to  sing : 

\ 
"Pie,  pie,  cranberry  pie, 

As  red  as  the  harvett-moon  up  in  the  sky, 

As  sweet  as  the  flowers  that  blow  in  the  vale, 

As  rich  as  the  song  of  the  rapt  nightingale. 

I  would  like  to  ride  daily  unto  my  three  meals 

In  a  chariot  with  cranberry  pies  for  the  wheels. 

I  would  just  like  to  hear  the  sad  wind  as  it  grieves 

Through  a  forest  with  cranberry  pies  for  the  leaves. 

I  should  feel  just  as  gay  as  a  mouse  in  a  cheese 

If  I  lived  over  yonder  among  the  green  trees 

In  a  little  red  palace  just  fifty  feet  high, 

And  constructed  entirely  of  cranberry  pie. 

Pie,  pie,  cranberry  pie. 

You  may  hunt  the  world  low,  you  may  hunt  the  world  high, 

But  nothing  can  waken  my  rapturous  sigh 

In  the  very  brief  space  that  can  cranberry  pie. 

Cranberry  very — " 

But  he  was  cut  short,  for  in  his  wild  enthusiasm  he 
unconsciously  touched  the  magic  spring  of  the  door  of 


174  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

Waxland,  and  it  flew  open  in  his  face,  and  struck  him 
on  the  nose  so  hard  that  it  gave  him  a  sneezing  fit. 
After  it  passed  away,  he  sang, 

"  Oh,  come  with  me !  oh,  come  with  me ! 
Aud  merry  Waxland  you  shall  see." 

And  when  they  entered,  the  door  closed  behind  them. 


5  Key  entered  and  CKedoor  closed  behind  flxem. 


II 


WHEN  the  door  had  closed,  the  Bear  took  Tommy  by 
the  hand,  and  they  proceeded  down  a  spiral  staircase. 
The  light  was  very  dim,  but  Tommy  could  see  that 
the  staircase  was  inside  a  huge  stick  of  candy,  the 
steps  running  around  in  the  red  stripe  and  the  rail  in 
the  yellow.  It  was  the  greatest  stick  of  candy  he 
had  ever  seen.  It  was  as  large  around  as  a  tree,  and 
seemed  a  great  deal  higher,  and  Tommy  fancied  he 
would  never  reach  the  bottom. 

The  Bear  held  him  affectionately  by  the  hand  as 
they  descended,  and  when  finally  they  got  to  the  bot- 
tom, he  said, 

"  This  is  the  bottom  of  the  stair, 
As  sure  as  I'm  a  cinnamon  bear." 

"  What  do  we  do  next,  Mr.  Bear  ?"  asked  Tommy. 

"  We  cross  this  pond 
To  the  bank  beyond, 

Then  we  pass  through  an  aisle  of  gloom, 
Till  we  reach  the  place 
Where  you'll  see  with  grace 

The  gay  waxteria  bloom." 

Then  the  Bear  told  Tommy  to  get  on  his  back,  which 
Tommy  did.     The  Bear  then  proceeded  to  walk  across 
the  pond,  which  was  less  than  a  foot  deep.     It  did 
12 


178  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

not  take  a  great  while  to  accomplish  this,  because 
the  Bear  was  pretty  lively.  When  he  walked  up  the 
other  bank  he  forgot  about  Tommy,  and  in  giving 
himself  a  shake  shook  Tommy  off  on  the  ground. 
The  Bear  was  very  sorry,  and  apologized  for  his  for- 
getfulness. 

"  Say  silver  orange  ?"  asked  Tommy. 

The  Bear  was  at  a  loss  to  understand  Tommy's 
meaning.  It  seemed  a  queer  way  of  accepting  his 
abject  apologies  for  shaking  him  off.  But  the  Bear 
couldn't  say  silver  orange,  because  nothing  would 
rhyme  with  those  words.  It  was  a  neat  trick  of  Tom- 
my's to  see  if  he  could  break  the  Bear  of  the  rhym- 
ing habit,  and  teach  him  to  talk  in  prose. 

"  Oh,  there's  another  bear  ?"  said  Tommy,  suddenly. 

"  Is  he  a  cinnamon  bear  too  ?" 

• 

"  Oh  yes,  that's  a  cinnamon  bear, 
Who  capers  around 
With  his  nose  on  the  ground 
While  performing  a  jig  over  there. 
He's  a  bear  that  can  only  talk  prose. 
A  prosy  old  bear, 
Who  has  never  a  care 
From  the  tip  of  his  tail  to  his  nose." 

Then  the  Lyric  Bear  introduced  Tommy  to  the 
Prose  Bear,  and  it  was  very  refreshing  to  Tommy  to 
meet  an  animal  who  could  pass  the  time  of  day  with- 
out dropping  into  rhyme. 

"  Ah !  I  am  so  glad  to  meet  you,"  said  Tommy,  as 
he  shook  the  Prose  Bear  by  the  paw ;  "  but  I  didn't 
catch  your  name." 

"  Edward  Persimmons,"  repeated  the  Bear ;  "  and  I 
am  a  very  matter-of-fact  creature,  too,  I  can  assure  you. 
Do  you  know,  I  can  see  no  more  beauty  in  a  tea-rose 


A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND  179 

than  I  can  in  a  coffee-bean,  a  sugar-beet,  or  a  milk- 
weed ?" 

"  You  astonish  me,"  replied  Tommy,  with  a  tremor. 
"  If  you  cannot  see  any  beauty  in  a  tea-rose,  I  fancy 
I  shall  have  to  feel  afraid  of  you.  Are  you  fond  of 
music  ?" 

"  I  am  not,"  he  replied. 

"  How  far  off  is  Waxland  ?"  asked  Tommy,  when  he 
had  recovered  from  the  shock. 

"  Oh,"  said  the  Prose  Bear,  thoughtfully,  "  it  is  only 
a  short  distance.  I  generally  wait  here  to  accompany 
the  Lyric  Bear  to  the  palace.  I  have  to  stay  here  in 
the  dark  for  ever  so  long,  because  when  Waxland  goes 
out  in  the  spring  and  the  Lyric  Bear  leaves,  I  have  to 
remain  here  and  suck  my  thumbs  and  wait  for  him  to 
return.  I  tell  you  I  am  always  so  glad  to  see  him  that 
if  I  were  not  a  prosy,  phlegmatic  bear,  I  should  prob- 
ably burst  into  a  song  and  dance  on  first  observing  his 
pleasant  face.  Do  you  know  that  at  the  present  time 
I  am  a  mass  of  wild  hilarity  subdued  by  my  natural 
inactivity  ?  Do  you  know  that  I  am  a  smouldering 
fire  of  unbounded  joy  yearning  for  a  means  of  giving 
it  vent  ?" 

"  No,"  replied  Tommy.  "  How  should  I  know  any 
such  thing  before  being  told  of  it  ?  Perhaps  you  will 
ask  me  directly  if  I  am  aware  of  the  fact  that  last 
May  your  grandmother  was  turned  into  a  peach  pie 
by  a  wicked  fairy  with  a  green  mole  on  his  left  ear, 
and  a  vest  pocketful  of  lizards  singing  a  Welsh  sere- 
nade." 

The  Prose  Bear  was  nonplussed  at  this. 

"  Perhaps  you  will  ask  me,"  continued  Tommy,  "  if 
I  know  that  your  grandfather's  mother-in-law  used  to 
make  rolls  of  jelly-cake  in  the  high  hat  of  the  giant 


180  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

whose  third  wife  was  turned  into  a  jar  of  pickled  but- 
ternuts, for  feeding  guava  jelly-fish  to  the  three-cor- 
nered tomcat  with  the  ultramarine  wings." 

The  Prose  Bear  looked  as  though  he  had  complete- 
ly lost  his  senses  through  fright,  and  didn't  know 
what  to  do.  Finally  he  said :  "  If  you  say  anything 
like  that  again,  you  will  break  my  heart.  I  am  not 
accustomed  to  having  such  things  said  to  me  on  the 
spur  of  the  moment,  when  I  am  not  on  my  guard. 
When  you  think  of  any  such  weird  thing  again,  will 
you  have  the  kindness  to  make  me  aware  of  the  fact 
that  you  will  say  it  in  ten  minutes  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Tommy. 

"  I  am  only  a  poor  Prose  Bear,  and  cannot,  there- 
fore, pour  out  the  song  of  gratitude  that  is  at  present 
singing  itself  in  my  heart.  I  would  like  you  to  act 
in  this  way :  Draw  forth  your  watch,  and  say,  '  Mr. 
Persimmons,  I  have  conceived  a  horrible  fancy,  which 
I  desire  to  express  to  you  in  my  own  peculiar  fashion. 
It  is  now  twenty-five  minutes  of  three ;  at  ten  minutes 
of  three  be  prepared.'  " 

"  That  is  a  very  fair  proposition,"  replied  Tommy, 
"  and  I  can  promise  faithfully  to  respect  it,  because  I 
never  again  intend  to  disturb  your  peace  of  rnind  in 
a  like  manner." 

"You  are  really  a  nice  little  boy,"  said  the  Prose 
Bear ;  "  and  if  I  may  presume  on  a  seven-minute  ac- 
quaintance, I  would  like  to  make  you  aware  of  the  fact 
that  you  have  made  a  favorable  impression  on  the  old 
Prose  Bear's  heart.  I  would  like  to  give  you  a  hug." 

"  Oh,  please  don't,"  exclaimed  Tommy,  in  alarm,  for 
he  had  not  read  bear  stories  for  nothing. 

"  Well,  then,  perhaps  you  will  allow  me  to  make  a 
little  friendly  suggestion  ?" 


A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND  181 

"  What  is  it?"  asked  Tommy. 

"  If  I  felt  sure  that  it  would  be  accepted  in  the 
kindly  spirit  in  which  it  is  offered — " 

"  It  will  be,"  broke  in  Tommy. 

"  Well,  I  would  advise  you  either  to  wash  your  face 
or  give  it  a  fresh  coat  of  paint.  It  is  quite  out  of 
tone  at  present." 

"  I  only  put  that  on  while  playing  Indian,"  ex- 
plained Tommy,  as  he  stooped  to  a  little  spring  by  the 
way  and  washed  it  off ;  "  but  now  how  am  I  going  to 
1  dry  my  face  ?" 

"  Don't  dry  it  at  all.  It  is  absurd  to  put  water  on 
your  face  for  the  sake  of  rubbing  it  off.  Would  it 
not  be  inconsistent  with  good  sense  to  rush  out  in  the 
fields  with  towels  to  dry  the  dewy  flowers  ?" 

"  It  would,"  said  Tommy. 

"  Then  let  the  water  dry  in." 

"  I  will  not  argue  with  you  any  further,  good  Mr. 
Prose  Bear,  but  will  let  it  dry  in.  If  water  cannot 
hurt  the  delicate  flowers,  it  cannot  injure  me,  be- 
cause— "  Tommy  looked  suddenly  about,  and,  in 
great  surprise,  continued,  "  Oh,  look  there  !" 

Both  the  Prose  and  Lyric  Bears  looked  about. 

"  Are  not  those  pansies  that  cover  that  great 
meadow  ?" 

"  They  are,"  replied  the  Prose  Bear. 

Tommy  looked,  and  feasted  his  eyes  on  the  beauti- 
ful sight.  The  earth  was  perfectly  blue,  and  seemed 
to  throb  with  mellow  fragrance.  When  the  wind 
touched  the  purple,  it  waved  to  and  fro  like  a  gently 
rippled  sea,  and  some  white  pigeons  sitting  on  it 
looked  like  lovely  full-blown  lilies. 

"This  is  the  frontier  of  Waxland,"  said  the  Prose 
Bear. 


182  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

"  And  what  are  the  pansies  for  ?"  asked  Tommy. 

"  They  are  the  eyes  for  the  wax  dolls." 

"  And  is  this  where  they  make  wax  dolls  ?" 

"  This  is  the  place  where  the  wax  dolls  are  made," 
replied  the  Prose  Bear.  "  Waxland  is  pretty  much  all 
wax.  The  streets  are  wax,  the  houses  are  wax,  and  the 
gardens  are  full  of  wax  flowers." 

"  But  how  do  you  bears  come  to  be  here." 

"  We  are  the  agents  of  the  bees ;  we  dispose  of  the 
beeswax  to  the  King  of  Waxland.  That  is  the  only 
kind  of  wax  that  does  not  abound  here.  They  have 
wax  string-beans,  whose  strings  are  waxed  ends ;  they 
have  sealing-wax  growing  in  the  ground  in  long  red 
sticks  like  radishes ;  they  have  wax-candle  trees,  and 
cobbler's  wax  growing  right  on  the  cob — " 

"  Was  that  joke  on  cobbler  and  cob  accidental  ?" 
asked  Tommy. 

"Frankly,  it  was  not,"  replied  the  Prose  Bear,  tear- 
fully ;  "  but  I  was  feeling  so  happy  just  then  over  the 
reillumination  of  Waxland  and  the  return  of  the  Lyric 
Bear  that  I  couldn't  control  myself.  But  to  return  to 
the  bees :  we  are  their  agents  because  of  our  natural 
fondness  for  honey.  The  Lyric  Bear  is  very  much  of 
a  comic  toy-book  bear ;  and  as  the  King  is  fond  of  a 
joke,  he  has  induced  him  to  become  his  fool  or  jester. 
But  it  is  a  great  shame  to  think  that  he  cannot  talk 
in  prose.  One  day  the  Wax  King  ordered  him  to 
be  waylaid  by  a  party  of  Waxlanders,  and  beaten 
with  waxteria  switches,  to  see  if  he  would  yell  any- 
thing in  prose,  but  he  screeched  nothing  but,  '  Ow, 
ow,  ow !  wow,  wow,  wow !'  and  the  King  gave  it 
up." 

"  What  is  the  King's  name  ?" 

"  Waxem." 


A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND  183 

"  Did  not  I  just  hear  you  say  something  about  the 
reillumination  of  Waxland  ?" 

"  You  did,"  replied  the  Prose  Bear  ;  "  and  perhaps 
I  ought  to  say  that  Waxland  is  dark  half  the  time  and 
light  the  other  half.  There  is  only  one  day  in  the 
year,  and  half  of  that  day  is  light,  and  the  other 
half  dark.  During  the  light  half,  the  Feast  of  Wax 
Candles,  the  Feast  of  Waxed  Ends,  and  other  celebra- 
tions take  place.  During  the  dark  half  all  Waxland 
sleeps." 

"  How  is  Waxland  lighted  ?" 

"  By  wax,  of  course,"  replied  the  Prose  Bear.  "  It 
was  originally  lighted  by  a  wax  moon,  which  used  to 
float  around  about  half  a  mile  above  Waxland.  It  was 
a  round  body  full  of  burning  wax.  Its  heat  used  to 
enable  it  to  draw  wax  up  from  Waxland,  and  that  kept 
it  supplied  with  fuel." 

"  But  how  would  it  go  out  when  the  darkness 
came  ?" 

"  Of  its  own  accord,  I  suppose,"  said  the  Prose 
Bear.  "  It  would  grow  dimmer  and  dimmer  every 
day,  and  then  people  would  begin  to  get  under  cover 
for  the  night.  After  it  went  out  it  kept  going  around 
as  usual,  but  of  course  was  invisible,  and  simply  wasted 
its  time." 

"  But  how  did  the  wax  moon  come  to  stop  ?"  asked 
Tommy. 

"  We  never  knew,  but  suppose  to  this  day  that  its 
draughts  or  air-box  got  shifted  out  of  place.  For  all 
of  a  sudden  a  shower  of  wax  started,  and  the  wax 
moon  began  to  grow  smaller  and  smaller,  until  it  finally 
looked  like  a  white  gumdrop.  And  all  the  wax  set- 
tled in  a  great  wax  hollow,  and  is  now  known  as  the 
Great  Wax  Sea.  During  the  day  this  sea  is  a  sea  of 


184  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

fire,  just  as  it  was  when  it  was  a  moon,  and  at  night  it 
is  an  illuminated  body." 

"  Any  man  in  it  ?"  asked  Tommy. 

"  No ;  only  a  fish  :  this  fish  used  to  drink  the  super- 
fluous fuel  it  drew  up,  to  keep  the  moon  from  slopping 
over.  And  now  it  swims  about  in  the  Great  Wax 
Sea." 

"  What  is  it  called  ?"  asked  Tommy. 

"  It  is  called  the  Wax  Dolphin,  because  it  is  really 
a  doll  with  fin's.  It  also  wears  yellow  hair  and  a  blue 
dress,  and  sometimes  walks  on  the  Great  Wax  Sea,  and 
sometimes  swims  along  its  surface  as  gracefully  as  the 
wind." 

"  But  how  is  Waxland  lighted  now  ?"  asked  Tommy. 

"  That  I  would  rather  not  tell  you,  because  you  shall 
soon  see  it  lighted  before  your  very  eyes.  Do  you 
hear  that  whizzing  sound  ?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Tommy.     "  What  is  it  ?" 

"  That  is  the  Wax  Tapir  spinning  on  his  nose." 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Tommy,  clapping  his  hands ;  "  Mr. 
Lyric  Bear  told  me  all  about  the  Wax  Tapir,  and  the 
Wax  Dolphin,  too,  in  a  neat  little  verse  just  after  I  met 
him.  How  long  does  he  spin  ?" 

"Until  Waxland  is  pretty  well  lighted.  His  whir 
wakes  all  the  people  up.  Just  hear  how  loud  he  is 
going  now  !" 

Tommy  listened,  and  sure  enough  the  Wax  Tapir's 
whir  became  louder  and  louder,  until  it  sounded  like 
a  saw-mill  on  a  moaning  sea-shore. 

Then  the  Lyric  Bear  sang : 

"  When  the  little  Wax  Tapir  begins 
To  whirl  all  around  on  his  nose, 
Oh,  it's  faster  and  faster  he  spins 

As  he  fashions  his  course  with  his  toes. 


A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND  185 

Oh,  he  wakes  the  Waxlanders  from  sleep, 
And  they  rush  from  their  pleasant  repose 

To  observe  the  old  Wax  Tapir  keep 
Spinning  swiftly  around  on  his  nose." 

"  Oh,  look,  look  !"  cried  Tommy. 

And  as  they  turned  they  saw  an  excited  wax  popu- 
lace waving  their  wax  hats  in  glee  against  a  delicate 
orange  background. 

The  more  the  Waxlanders  waved  their  wax  hands 
the  faster  the  Wax  Tapir  kept  spinning.  He  would 
disappear  down  one  avenue  and  appear  on  another. 
After  he  had  spun  through  all  the  streets,  he  stopped 
before  the  palace,  and  spun  and  whirred  until  a  wax 
attendant  ran  out  and  told  him  the  King  was  awake, 
and  that  further  whirring  would  be  superfluous. 

So  the  Wax  Tapir  jumped  lightly  from  his  nose  to 
his  feet,  and  ran  over  to  join  the  Prose  and  Lyric 
Rears. 

"  I  should  think  you  would  wear  your  nose  right 
back  to  your  eyes  spinning  in  that  fashion,"  said 
Tommy,  after  he  had  been  introduced  to  the  Wax 
Tapir. 

"  One  would  naturally  draw  that  inference,"  replied 
the  Wax  Tapir,  "  but  there  is  no  more  danger  of  my 
wearing  my  nose  out  by  spinning  on  it  than  there  is 
of  your  wearing  your  feet  off  to  the  ankles  by  walk- 
ing on  them." 

Then  they  proceeded  farther  into  Waxland.  When 
they  reached  a  beautiful  wax  hill  they  paused,  and 
Tommy  saw  the  most  wonderful  sight  of  his  life.  All 
the  wax  for  miles  around  was  dotted  with  little  balls 
of  fire.  Tommy  noticed  that  the  ones  close  to  him 
were  lighted  wax  candles.  He  couldn't  imagine  how 
they  ever  started,  and  the  most  curious  part  of  it  all 


186  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

was  that  as  the  candles  continued  to  burn  they  grew 
higher  instead  of  diminishing.  When  they  got  six  or 
eight  feet  high,  branches  began  to  shoot  from  them 
in  every  direction.  And  from  these  branches  other 
branches  sprang,  until  each  candle  was  a  beautiful  wax 
tree,  and  the  flames  on  the  branches  all  turned  into 
wax  flowers  of  every  color. 


Ill 


TOMMY  watched  with  astonishment  the  wonderful 
sights  that  were  revealed  to  him  as,  in  company  with 
his  two  friends,  the  Prose  and  the  Lyric  Bears,  he 
journeyed  towards  the  Great  Wax  Sea.  Suddenly  his 
attention  was  arrested  by  a  lot  of  queer-looking  figures. 

"  Oh,  what  are  those  men  doing  ? '  he  exclaimed. 

"  They  are  the  hands  of  the  wax  doll  factory  going 

to  work." 

"  Sturdy  sons  of  Waxland  soil 
Going  to  their  daily  toil," 

added  his  poetical  friend. 

"  I  should  like  to  see  the  wax  doll  factory,"  said 
Tommy. 

"  If  that  sight  will  be  a  boon, 
You  shall  see  it  pretty  soon," 

replied  the  Lyric  Bear. 

So  they  all  started  away  together,  and  were  soon 
at  the  wax  doll  factory.  It  was  very  curious  to  Tom- 
my to  see  all  the  men  at  work  making  wax  dolls.  One 
man  would  make  a  head,  and  pass  it  to  another  who 
should  put  the  hair  on,  and  he  in  turn  would  give  it  to 
one  who  would  insert  the  eyes  and  paint  the  pleasant 
smile.  And  so  the  wax  doll  would  go  from  one  to 
another  until  it  was  complete,  dress  and  all. 

Tommy  was  not  a  little  astonished  when  he  heard 


188  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

the  wax  foreman  order  a  lot  of  his  wax  inferiors  to 
go  forth  to  the  frontier  and  gather  a  ton  or  two  of 
eyes.  Of  course  he  alluded  to  the  pansies  that  Tommy 
had  seen,  and  which  had  been  explained  to  him  by  the 
kindly  old  Prose  Bear. 

After  they  had  departed  with  their  baskets  on  their 
arms,  there  was  quite  a  commotion  in  the  eye  de- 
partment of  the  wax  doll  factory.  One  of  the  wax 
workers  had  got  overheated,  and  was  melted  into  a 
shapeless  mass.  He  was  running  all  over  the  floor 
and  settling  in  the  cracks. 

But  the  commotion  did  not  last  long.  The  wax 
man  was  gathered  up  and  put  in  a  vessel  and  melted. 
Then  the  mould  of  a  man  was  brought  out,  and  the 
melted  wax  poured  into  it.  Then  it  was  put  in  cold 
water  to  harden. 

"Oh,  let  me  out,  let  me  out !"  came  a  voice  from 
within. 

"  I  guess  he's  all  right,  now,"  said  the  foreman. 
So  the  mould  was  taken  out  of  the  cold  water  and 
opened,  when  the  man  stepped  forth,  apparently  as 
well  as  ever. 

One  of  his  ears  was  wanting,  however,  but  that  was 
owing  to  the  fact  that  he  was  not  all  gathered  from 
the  floor.  The  ear  was  probably  in  the  crack. 

Then  it  was  amusing  to  see  the  wax  man  picking 
the  splinters  and  nails  out  of  himself  that  had  stuck 
to  the  wax  and  been  thrown  in  and  boiled  with  it. 
Most  of  them  were  forced  to  the  surface  in  the  boil- 
ing process,  and  he  had  little  difficulty  in  removing 
them. 

"  Does  this  sort  of  thing  happen  very  often  ?"  asked 
Tommy. 

"  Oh  yes,"  replied  the  Prose  Bear ;  "  it  is  not  an 


A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND  191 

unusual  occurrence ;  but  sometimes  curious  complica- 
tions arise.  Not  long  ago  a  man  was  melted,  and 
the  only  mould  in  the  place  was  one  for  a  man  about 
twice  his  size.  So  they  threw  the  melted  man  into 
the  vessel,  and  then  melted  his  brother  and  threw  in 
with  him.  The  two  just  filled  the  mould,  and  came 
out  a  giant,  and  the  wives  of  both  men  claimed  the 
giant  for  a  husband.  Each  one  insisted  so  strongly 
that  her  claim  was  more  just  than  that  of  the  other 
that  Waxem  ordered  the  giant  to  be  melted  and  run 
into  two  smaller  moulds.  This  was  done,  and  each 
woman  had  her  husband  back.  Sometimes  a  poor 
wax  family  will  take  four  or  five  sons,  melt  them, 
and  run  them  into  a  large  mould,  and  make  a  man 
of  them.  On  the  other  hand,  a  man  may  have  an 
old  grandfather  depending  on  him.  He  is  tooth- 
less and  weary,  and  in  his  own  way  and  every  one 
else's.  So  the  grandson  humanely  has  the  old  man 
melted  and  run  into  children's  moulds.  One  ordinary 
grandfather  will  make  three  ten-year-olds.  That  is  the 
reason  that  no  one  ever  dies  in  Waxland.  When  a 
man  grows  old  he  is  melted  and  remoulded.  Some- 
times for  crime  a  man  is  melted  and  left  so  for  a 
number  of  years,  after  which  he  is  restored  to  his 
family  by  the  process  of  the  mould." 

While  Tommy  listened  aghast  to  the  story  of  people 
being  melted,  the  Lyrical  Bear  sang : 

"All  the  Prose  Bear's  said  to  you 
Is  iu  every  detail  true. 
Sometimes  will  a  man  melt  up 
Like  the  sugar  in  your  cup; 
And  whenever  he  is  found 
Lying  melted  on  the  ground, 
He's  remelted  in -a  pot 
Till  he  bubbles  round  red-hot; 


192  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

Then  he's  poured  into  a  mould, 
Where  he's  left  until  he's  cold ; 
Then  the  mould  is  opened  wide, 
When  he  steps  forth  in  his  pride." 

The  Lyric  Bear's  indorsement  of  his  friend's  state- 
ment convinced  Tommy  that  it  was  quite  true.  In 
fact,  he  needed  no  assurance  of  the  truth  of  what  he 
had  witnessed  with  his  own  eyes. 

Here  the  Prose  Bear  began  pulling  sticks  of  red 
sealing-wax  out  of  the  ground  and  eating  them.  After 
he  had  eaten  several  he  pulled  down  the  limbs  of  a 
wax -candle  tree,  and  commenced  eating  candles  like 
sticks  of  candy. 

And  the  Lyric  Bear  followed  suit,  and,  as  he  did  so, 
sang : 

"  We  eat  these  waxen  candles 

To  lighten  all  our  cares ; 
So  please  don't  dream  or  fancy 
That  we  are  Russian  bears." 

So  they  continued  eating  for  quite  a  long  while. 
After  they  had  eaten  the  candles  they  proceeded  to 
make  a  dessert  of  wax  flowers,  which  were  blowing 
all  over  the  ground. 

"  Oh,  oh  !"  said  Tommy. 

"  Oh,  oh,  what  ?"  asked  the  Prose  Bear. 

"  Oh,  oh, 
How  so?" 

inquired  the  Lyric  Bear. 

"  There's  a  red  man.     Have  you  wax  Indians  ?" 
"  Oh  no,"  responded  the  Prose  Bear ;  "  that  man  is 

simply  made  of  red  wax.     We  have  people  here  of  all 

colors.     Sometimes  a  man  is  a  mixture  of  waxes  of 

every  color/' 


A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND  193 

"  What  is  that  music  ?"  asked  Tommy. 

"  That  is  the  music  of  the  King's  footsteps ;  when- 
ever he  puts  his  foot  on  the  ground,  the  air  is  filled 
with  music.  It  is  a  way  he  has  of  announcing  his  ap- 
proach to  his  subjects.  The  music  of  his  walk  can 
be  heard  from  one  end  of  Waxland  to  the  other, 
and  it  is  as  audible  at  the  extreme  boundaries  as  it 
is  here." 

Tommy  looked  around,  but  could  not  see  the  King, 
but  he  could  hear  the  music  distinctly  as  it  rippled 
through  the  air. 

"  Where  is  the  King,  anyhow  ?"  asked  Tommy,  as 
he  looked  about  for  him  in  vain. 

"We  cannot  tell  exactly  where  he  is,"  responded 
the  Prose  Bear ;  "  he  may  be  a  hundred  feet  off,  and 
he  may  be  several  miles  distant.  When  he  is  close, 
you  know,  the  music  sounds  no  louder  than  when  he 
is  far  away." 

"  But  I  think  I  see  him,"  said  Tommy, "  down  there 
by  that  wax-match  shrubbery." 

"  Ob,  here  he  comes,  oh,  here  he  comes, 
Snapping  his  fingers  and  snapping  his  thumbs," 

said  the  Lyric  Bear. 

And  sure  enough  they  saw  the  King  of  Waxland 
coming  up  the  hill,  about  half  a  mile  away.  He  was 
waving  his  hands  in  the  air  as  though  playing  on  cas- 
tanets, and  swaying  his  body  in  time  with  the  tune  his 
feet  played  as  he  walked. 

"Do  his  feet  always  play  music?"  asked  Tommy. 

"  Always,"  replied  the  Prose  Bear,  "  except  when 

they  are  in  repose.     Sometimes  he  gives  a  kick  in  his 

sleep,  and  the  music  wakens  him.     I  have  frequently 

seen  him  break  into  a  jig — a  most  undignified  act  for 

13 


194  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

one  in  his  position — simply  to  drown  some  disagree- 
able noise." 

"  How  many  tunes  are  there  in  him  ?"  asked  Tommy. 

"  There  is  a  tune  for  every  day,"  replied  the  Prose 
Bear,  "  that  his  life  may  not  become  a  burden  to  him 
and  every  one  around  him." 

"  But  why  is  not  the  Queen  with  him  ?"  asked 
Tommy. 

"Simply  because  she  plays  a  different  tune  with 
each  foot,"  replied  the  Prose  Bear,  "  and  when  they 
become  mixed  with  the  King's  tune  it  makes  it  very 
confusing,  not  to  say  annoying." 

"  Don't  they  ever  walk  together  ?"  asked  Tommy. 

"  Never,"  responded  the  Prose  Bear.  "  If  the  Queen 
goes  out  with  the  King,  she  is  carried  on  the  shoulders 
of  half  a  dozen  Waxlanders,  because  then  she  cannot 
play  those  tunes." 

"  But  how  is  she  affected  when  she  goes  out  alone  ?" 

"  She  is  not  affected  at  all  then,  because,  fortunately, 
she  is  deaf." 

By  this  time  the  King  was  sufficiently  hear  to  re- 
ceive the  salutations  of  the  Prose  and  Lyric  Bears, 
which  he  duly  returned. 

Tommy  felt  a  little  constrained  and  ill  at  ease,  be- 
cause he  had  never  before  been  in  the  presence  of  a 
wax  king.  But  the  Wax  King  was  so  pleasant  that 
Tommy  soon  felt  pretty  well  acquainted  with  him. 
As  he  walked  along,  the  music  elicited  by  his  feet 
happened  to  be  a  reel,  and  the  Prose  and  Lyric  Bears 
joined  paws,  and  kept  a  short  distance  before  him, 
and  danced  as  they  continued  on  their  way.  This 
amused  the  Wax  King  very  much,  and  he  laughed 
heartily,  and  occasionally  changed  the  time  of  his 
steps  to  see  if  he  could  throw  the  bears  out  of  time. 


A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND  195 

But  in  this  he  was  not  successful,  the  bears  seeming  to 
adapt  their  steps  to  any  measure  that  he  could  create. 

"  I  caught  a  couple  of  conspirators  this  morning," 
said  the  King. 

"  What  was  their  conspiracy  ?"  asked  the  Prose 
Bear. 

"  They  were  lying  in  wait  to  catch  and  melt  me, 
and  leave  me  in  a  heap  on  the  ground." 

"  But  that  would  be  murder,  would  not  it  ?"  asked 
Tommy. 

"  No,"  replied  the  King,  "  it  would  not  be  murder : 
it  would  be  wax  annihilation,  for  I  might  lie  there  for- 
ever, and  if  they  could  find  the  mould  I  was  cast  in, 
one  of  them  could  melt  the  other  and  run  him  into  it, 
and  Waxland  would  never  know  the  difference." 

"  And  what  did  you  do  with  them  ?" 

"  Had  them  melted  and  recast  into  wax  pigs,"  said 
the  King.  "  But  how  far  is  it  to  the  Great  Wax  Sea  ?" 

"  It  is  less  than  a  mile 
To  the  Great  Wax  Sea; 
If  you  think  it  worth  while 
Please  to  follow  me," 

replied  the  Lyric  Bear. 

"  I  have  never  yet,"  said  the  King,  "  heard  that 
Lyric  Bear  say  anything  that  did  not  rhyme,  and 
never  yet  did  I  hear  him  utter  anything  but  the  bald- 
est commonplace.  I  love  both  these  bears  dearly, 
in  spite  of  their  clumsiness  and  brusque  manners. 
They  tell  me  how  my  other  subjects,  the  bees,  are 
getting  along,  and  as  I  never  see  the  bees,  of  course 
I  could  get  no  news  from  them.  If  I  could  only  melt 
them  (the  bears)  and  run  them  into  other  moulds,  I 
should  be  only  too  happy  to  turn  them  into  pea- 


196  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

cocks  or  birds,  or  anything  that  might  strike  their 
fancy." 

"  But  bears  are  often  melted  into  bear  grease,"  re- 
plied Tommy,  "  and  you  might  melt  them  and  mix 
them  with  wax,  leaving  just  bear  grease  enough  to 
sustain  life.  Then  you  could  gradually  add  wax  until 
there  was  no  bear  grease  left,  and  then  you  could 
melt  them  over,  and  cast  them  to  suit  their  fancies." 

"  I  am  afraid  the  first  melting  of  the  bears  would 
be  attended  by  too  great  pain;  and,  besides,  I  don't 
believe  there  is  any  room  for  improvement  in  those 
bears,  so  they  had  better  be  left  just  as  they  stand 
and  dance." 

"  There  is  the  Great  Wax  Sea,"  said  the  Prose  Bear. 

"  I  don't  see  it,"  replied  Tommy. 

"  You  can't  see  it  until  after  dark,"  said  the  Prose 
Bear,  "  because  it  used  to  be  a  moon,  and  it  is  really 
to-day  a  moon  on  the  ground.  It  is  always  invisible 
in  daylight;  but  just  wait  until  the  wax  flowers  begin 
to  droop,  and  you  will  see  it  in  all  its  opalescent 
beauty." 

Then  the  King  said,  "  Screech  up  the  wax  amphi- 
theatre " 

The  Prose  Bear  began  to  bellow  the  wildest  gib- 
berish to  Tommy,  and  the  arena  came  forth  from  the 
ground. 

After  the  grand  ring  had  appeared  above  the 
ground,  or  rather  wax,  seats  began  to  appear  around 
the  ring.  The  large  high  seat  was  for  the  King,  and 
there  was  one  beside  him  for  the  Queen.  The  Lyric 
Bear  stood  beside  the  Queen,  and  the  Prose  Bear  be- 
side the  King  during  the  festivities. 

It  was  the  custom  of  Waxland  to  spend  the  day  at 
this  place.  The  King  only  used  his  palace  to  sleep  in 


A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND  197 

during  the  long  weary  six-month  night.  When  the 
six-month  day  dawned,  he  was  ready  for  a  six-month 
day  of  pleasure.  And  he  often  remained  here  until 
the  Wax  Dolphin  could  be  seen  swimming  on  the  Great 
Wax  Sea,  which  was  the  signal  for  retiring  for  the 
night. 

The  King  had  already  taken  his  place,  and  the 
Prose  Bear  stood  at  his  side.  The  Lyric  Bear  awaited 
the  coming  of  the  Queen.  He  had  not  long  to  wait, 
for  the  faithful  subjects  of  the  King  were  bearing 
her  on  their  shoulders,  that  she  might  not  touch  the 
ground  and  disturb  the  King's  peace  of  mind  by  play- 
ing two  tunes  simultaneously.  The  only  way  she  could 
play  but  one  tune  was  by  hopping,  but  this  was  a  very 
tiresome  method  of  locomotion,  and  the  Queen  pre- 
ferred being  carried.  But  when  her  feet  touched  the 
ground,  both  her  tunes  started  up,  and  as  they  did  so 
and  she  walked,  she  left  a  trail  of  lovely  flowers  be- 
hind her. 


IV 


WHEREVER  the  Queen's  foot  touched  the  ground  a 
flower  sprang  immediately  into  bloom.  For  this  rea- 
son she  could  never  be  lost.  It  would  only  be  neces- 
sary to  follow  her  trail  of  flowers.  All  her  robes  were 
made  of  flowers  woven  into  a  dainty  fabric,  and  the 
flowers  retained  all  their  beauty  and  freshness,  and  the 
Queen  looked  as  though  she  were  made  of  the  souls  of 
flowers  by  the  touch  of  a  magician's  wand.  Notwith- 
standing her  superb  beauty  and  loveliness,  the  King 
stuffed  his  fingers  into  his  ears  as  she  ascended  the  wax 
staircase,  and  took  her  place  beside  him.  The  Lyric 
Bear  stood  at  her  elbow,  with  a  pleasant  smile  that 
literally  trickled  out  of  his  eyes.  The  other  seats 
about  the  great  ring  were  filled  with  delighted  Wax- 
landers.  Tommy  stood  beside  the  Lyric  Bear  and 
held  his  paw,  as  he,  the  Lyric  Bear,  was  his  guide. 

Then  two  doors  opened  on  one  side  of  the  ring,  and 
the  Wax  Tapir  came  hopping  out  on  his  nose,  and  com- 
menced whirling  around  the  ring,  and  making  the 
same  whirring  sound  that  he  had  made  when  awaken- 
ing Waxland.  He  soon  attained  such  speed  that  he 
became  invisible.  But  if  he  became  invisible,  he  cer- 
tainly did  not  become  inaudible.  He  seemed  to  turn 
into  a  circle  of  sound. 

"  What  is  the  Wax  Tapir  doing  that  for  ?" 

"  He  is  waking  up  the  wax  animals,"  replied  the 


A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND  199 

King  ;  "  they  will  perform  various  acts  for  our  pleas- 
ure, according  to  custom,  as  soon  as  they  are  wide 
awake." 

"  But  where  is  the  Wax  Tapir  now  ?"  asked  Tommy. 

"  He  has  gone  out,"  replied  the  King ;  "  that  is,  he 
has  spun  himself  asleep,  and  will  not  awake  and  be- 
come visible  until  to-morrow  morning  six  months 
hence,  when  it  will  be  time  to  wake  Waxland  again. 
You  know  the  Wax  Tapir  lets  us  know  when  it  is  time 
to  arise  for  the  day,  and  the  Wax  Dolphin  when  it  is 
time  to  retire  for  the  night." 

"  But  where  is  the  Great  Wax  Sea  ?"  asked  Tommy. 

"  The  Great  Wax  Sea,"  said  the  King,  "  is  situated 
in  the  middle  of  this  great  ring.  There  is  only  a  track 
for  the  wax  animals  to  run  on,  about  twenty  feet  wide, 
extending  around  the  outside  of  the  sea.  Of  course 
you  cannot  see  the  Great  Wax  Sea,  sometimes  called 
the  Moon  Sea,  because  the  light  of  day  makes  it  in- 
visible. But  look !" 

The  doors  from  which  the  Wax  Tapir  had  emerged 
opened  again,  and  about  a  thousand  storks  filed  out 
and  bowed  to  the  King. 

Then  they  began  running  around  the  ring  as  hard 
as  they  could  go.  Around,  around  they  went,  increas- 
ing their  speed  as  much  as  possible.  Each  wax  stork 
seemed  to  be  running  as  if  for  its  life,  and  yet  it  was 
impossible  to  see  which  was  ahead. 

"  What  are  they  running  for  ?"  asked  Tommy,  in  a 
mystified  way. 

"  They  are  running  to  see  who  is  to  be  the  King  of 
the  wax  storks,"  replied  the  King. 

"  But  how  can  they  find  the  King  in  that  way  ?" 

"  Very  simply ;  they  are  running  to  melt  their  legs 
off.  The  stork  whose  legs  are  melted  off  first  will 


200  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

make  known  the  fact  by  swimming  in  the  now  invis- 
ible Moon  Sea,  and  as  soon  as  he  touches  the  Moon 
Sea  he  will  turn  into  a  black  swan,  and  the  Wax  Dol- 
phin will  touch  his  head,  upon  which  will  blaze  a 
golden  crown." 

Then  they  turned  their  attention  to  the  storks,  who 
were  still  running  with  might  and  main  to  gain  the 
coveted  golden  crown.  Some  wobbled  sideways,  be- 
cause one  leg  had  melted  more  than  the  other.  And 
it  was  plain  to  be  seen  that  the  storks  were  not  as  tall 
as  when  they  commenced,  as  their  legs  had  melted  off 
fully  a  foot;  and-they  kept  getting  shorter  and  shorter, 
until  the  storks  looked  like  turkeys  with  the  excep- 
tion of  their  bills. 

Suddenly  they  all  stopped. 

"The  race  is  over, 

The  King  is  found  ; 
He's  in  wax  clover 
Because  he's  crowned," 

sang  the  Lyric  Bear. 

And  sure  enough,  while  the  unsuccessful  storks 
flapped  their  wings  and  screeched  in  acknowledgment 
of  defeat,  a  beautiful  shining  jet-black  swan  floated 
across  the  bosom  of  the  invisible  Moon  Sea,  and  when 
it  had  swum  out  a  long  distance  a  golden  crown  sud- 
denly appeared  on  its  head,  and  the  spectators  knew 
that  it  had  been  put  there  by  the  hand  of  the  lovely 
but  invisible  Wax  Dolphin. 

Then  the  other  storks  rose  and  flew  away  in  a  great 
flock  to  have  their  legs  renewed.  Meanwhile  the  King 
Stork  floated  about  as  gracefully  as  a  gondola,  and 
seemed  greatly  pleased  with  its  new  position.  But  in 
a  little  while  it  seemed  to  tire  of  the  Moon  Sea,  and  to 


A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND  201 

long  for  the  companionship  of  its  old  friends,  for  it 
rose  from  the  sea,  and  flew  away  in  the  direction  that 
they  had  taken. 

When  the  King  Stork  was  out  of  sight,  Tommy 
wondered  what  was  going  to  happen  next ;  but  he 
had  not  a  great  while  to  wait,  for  no  sooner  had  the 
Lyric  Bear  made  a  humorous  observation  that  it  would 
be  an  injustice  to  him  to  repeat,  than  the  doors  from 
which  the  storks  had  come  opened,  and  a  little  island, 
so  densely  covered  with  flowers  that  it  seemed  sim- 
ply a  heap  of  blossoms,  floated  out,  and  did  not  be- 
come stationary  until  about  fifty  feet  in  front  of  the 
King. 

The  island  seemed  to  float  in  the  air,  and  all  admired 
it,  even  the  bears,  who  dreamed  of  honey  when  they 
saw  tke  lovely  flowers ;  for  they  suggested  honey,  al- 
though they  were  simply  wax. 

"  Whose  little  island  is  that,  Mr.  Prose  Bear  ?"  asked 
Tommy  Hawk,  with  a  look  of  surprise  and  joy. 

"  That  is  the  flower  bower  of  the  Little  Wax  Day- 
maker." 

"  What  does  he  do  ?" 

"  Why,  he  makes  the  days,  of  course  ;  not  the  days 
of  Waxland,  but  the  days  of  your  world." 

Then  the  Little  Wax  Day-maker  appeared.  He  was 
a  very  dainty  personage,  and  was  black,  white,  gray, 
and  yellow.  The  black  represented  the  dark  or  rainy 
days ;  the  white,  the  snowy  days  of  winter ;  the  gray, 
the  overcast,  doubtful  days  ;  and  the  yellow,  the  days 
of  perfect  sunshine. 

Tommy  was  greatly  pleased  with  the  appearance  of 
this  little  wax  fairy,  and  did  not  fail  to  praise  him  in 
the  warmest  terms. 

Then  a  white  bird  flew  out  of  the  bank  of  flowers. 


202  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

"  That  is  a  day  of  snow,"  said  the  Prose  Bear,  as 
the  white  bird  vanished  in  the  sky. 

Then  a  black  bird  flew  out. 

"  That  is  a  day  of  pattering  rain  and  wailing  wind," 
remarked  the  Prose  Bear. 

"  I  hope  that  is  not  a  Saturday,  when  there  is  no 
school,"  said  Tommy. 

Then  out  flew  a  white  bird,  followed  by  a  gray  one, 
and  so  they  kept  on,  until  three  hundred  and  sixty- 
five  birds  had  vanished  in  the  sky. 

The  Prose  Bear  kept  an  account,  and  told  Tommy 
just  how  many  fine  and  how  many  rainy  days  he  would 
have  next  year.  Then  a  big  gold  bowl,  fringed  with 
lilies  and  roses,  appeared  above  the  flowers.  The 
Little  Wax  Day-maker  sat  gracefully  on  the  rim  and 
stirred  the  flowers  within  with  a  long  green  ladle,  that 
was  really  a  hollyhock. 

"  What  is  he  going  to  do  now,  Mr.  Prose  Bear  ?" 

"  He  is  now  the  Little  Wax  Dream-maker,"  replied 
the  Prose  Bear ;  "and  he  is  going  to  make  the  dreams 
that  the  King  and  Queen  are  going  to  have  to-night, 
which  is  some  four  or  five  of  your  months  distant 
from  the  present  time." 

"He  plucks  a  flower  as  white  as  snow, 
Up  into  the  air  to  lightly  throw, 
And  when  it  turns  in  its  flight  to  fall, 
It  will  suddenly  burst  like  a  big  puff-ball, 
And  pictures  will  out  of  that  flower  stream, 
And  they'll  show  us  our  goodly  King's  next  dream," 

sang  the  Lyric  Bear. 

When  he  had  ceased,  the  Little  Wax  Dream-maker 
tossed  a  great  shining  wax  lily  into  the  air,  and  as  it 
turned  to  descend,  it  burst  like  a  rocket,  and  the  King 


A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND  203 

knew  the  dream  he  was  going  to  have  that  night,  al- 
though the  night  was  several  months  off. 

He  could  see  himself  as  the  King  of  the  band  of 
Head-cheese  wandering  over  the  Head-cheese  Mount- 
ains, hated  and  despised  by  all  his  subjects.  He  was 
an  unbearable  tyrant,  and  all  his  subjects  detested 
him,  and  longed  for  the  time  that  they  could  chop 
him  up  and  make  head -cheese  of  him.  Even  the 
beasts  hated  him,  and  finally  they  agreed  to  put  an 
end  to  him.  The  animals  all  began  to  chase  him.  An 
elephant  was  right  on  his  track,  and  the  King,  out  of 
breath,  was  making  for  a  narrow  passage-way  under 
some  trees  that  the  elephant's  girth  would  prevent 
him  from  passing  through.  But  the  elephant  had  the 
power  to  lose  or  gain  flesh  at  will,  so,  by  the  time  ho 
reached  the  trees,  instead  of  being  a  regular  thick-set 
elephant,  he  was  stretched  out  until  he  was  a  hundred 
feet  long  and  no  thicker  than  an  alligator.  So  he 
flew  right  along  after  the  King,  whose  royal  robes  lay 
on  the  air  like  a  table-cloth.  The  King  thought  if  he 
could  only  run  up  the  mountain,  the  elephant's  weight 
would  tell  on  him  so  that  he  would  be  obliged  to 
abandon  the  chase.  Of  course  the  King  did  not  know 
of  the  elephant's  power  to  lose  flesh  at  will,  or  he 
would  have  pursued  a  different  method.  So  when 
he  started  up  the  side  of  the  Head-cheese  Mountain 
he  felt  that  he  would  shortly  be  out  of  his  pursuer's 
reach.  This  thought  was  quickly  dissipated  when  he 
looked  around  and  saw  the  elephant  reduced  to  the 
proportions  of  a  greyhound,  and  coming  after  him  like 
the  wind. 

Finally  the  King,  in  his  great  effort  to  escape, 
stumbled,  and  instead  of  arising  and  struggling  on, 
sat  perfectly  still,  so  great  was  his  exhaustion.  And 


204  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

the  elephant  stood  still,  too ;  for  he  had  to  catch  the 
King  flying,  or  not  at  all.  The  elephant  could  not 
move  unless  the  King  moved,  and  as  soon  as  the 
Kino-  was  aware  of  that,  he  continued  to  sit  still  until 

o 

he  could  summon  assistance.  But  before  he  could  do 
so,  all  the  land  of  Head-cheese  came  to  life  ;  that  is,  it 
was  all  restored  to  its  original  condition  of  pighood. 
The  pigs  all  ran  around  and  shrieked,  because  the 
pepper  and  spices  of  the  head-cheese  were  in  their 
systems,  and  caused  them  great  pain.  So  great  was 
this  pain  that  they  determined  to  avenge  themselves 
on  the  King. 

But  they  could  go  no  nearer  to  him  than  the  ele- 
phant did ;  and,  unlike  the  elephant,  they  could  not 
sit  or  lie  down,  because  the  spices  and  peppers  k<?pt 
them  dancing  about  in  ecstasies  of  anguish  and  de- 
spair. The  King  thought  he  could  escape  when  the 
elephant  went  away  to  get  something  to  eat ;  but  in 
this  he  was  mistaken.  When  the  elephant  got  hun- 
gry, the  head  would  go  hopping  down  into  the  valley 
alone,  and  fill  the  trunk  with  fodder,  and  take  it  back 
where  the  body  was  on  guard  to  eat  it.  Then  the 
head  and  body  would  remain  on  guard  while  the  legs 
went  off  to  take  some  exercise.  All  the  while  the 
body  would  exercise  itself  by  violently  wagging  the 
tail,  which  it  could  snap  like  a  whip. 

The  King  made  up  his  mind  that  he  would  run  for 
the  palace,  but  found  that  he  could  not  arise,  because 
his  feet  were  asleep,  and  would  probably  remain  so  for 
a  month.  So  he  thought  he  would  lie  down  and  go 
to  sleep  himself;  which  he  did,  only  to  have  another 
dream  that  he  was  a  tall  lily  growing  in  a  deserted 
garden,  and  that  his  wife  was  another  lily  much  whiter 
than  himself  growing  on  the  same  stem.  The  breezes 


An  elephant  tuas  right  on  his  track. 


A   DAY    IN    WAXLAND  207 

caused  them  to  kiss,  and  they  were  perfectly  happy, 
wedded  in  the  sunshine.  They  saw  themselves  re- 
flected in  each  other's  faces  when  they  were  bright 
with  dew-drops,  and  knew  that  they  would  die  to- 
gether when  the  stalk  withered,  and  that  neither  would 
have  to  mourn  the  other.  So,  when  the  stalk  was 
frozen,  the  shock  was  so  great  that  the  King  awoke 
into  his  first  dream,  and  was  face  to  face  with  the 
elephant ;  and  so  he  sat  until  he  was  awakened  by  the 
whir  of  the  Wax  Tapir. 

"  I  have  got  to  go  through  all  that,"  said  the  King. 
"Even  though  I  am  a  King,  I  cannot  escape  the  dream 
that  comes  out  of  the  Little  Wax  Dream  -  maker's 
flower." 

Before  the  Prose  Bear,  the  Lyric  Bear,  or  Tommy 
Hawk  could  make  any  comments,  or  offer  any  sym- 
pathy, the  Little  Wax  Dream-maker  tossed  a  lovely 
yellow  flower  into  the  air.  They  all  waited  to  see 
what  the  Queen's  dream  was  to  be.  But  when  the 
flower  turned  to  descend,  it  burst,  and  no  picture 
came  out  of  it. 

"  What  does  that  mean  ?"  inquired  Tommy. 

"  It  means,"  said  the  Prose  Bear,  "  that  the  Queen 
is  not  going  to  have  any  dream.  She  is  going  to  have 
the  peaceful,  refreshing,  undisturbed  sleep  that  closes 
the  eyelids  of  the  good." 

The  King  was  so  provoked  at  the  prospect  of  a  six 
months'  dream  such  as  came  out  of  the  Little  Wax 
Dream-maker's  flower  that  the  Prose  Bear  suggested 
that  they  ramble  around  Waxland  for  a  while,  in  the 
hope  of  putting  the  King  in  a  better  humor. 

"  Are  not  we  going  to  see  the  Wax  Dolphin  ?"  Tom- 
my inquired. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Prose  Bear ;  "  but  she  will  not  ap- 


208  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

pear  for  a  couple  of  months  yet — not  until  darkness 
sets  in,  and  the  Great  Wax  or  Moon  Sea  shines  like  a 
silver  plain.  At  that  time  the  Wa~  Dolphin  will  swim 
about  singing  a  lullaby,  and  waving  a  branch  of  wax 
poppies  to  put  all  Waxland  to  sleep." 

Just  at  this  moment  they  came  upon  a  clump  of 
flowers  that  disappeared  suddenly  in  the  ground  as 
though  drawn  down  by  elastic  strands. 


"  THOSE,"  said  the  Prose  Bear,  indicating  with  his 
paw  the  flowers  whose  sudden  retreat  from  sight  had 
attracted  Tommy's  attention — "  those  are  wax  sensitive 
plants.  They  are  so  sensitive  that  they  can't  bear  to 
be  looked  at,  so  when  any  one  appears  they  fly  right 
into  the  ground,  and  remain  there  until  all  sounds  have 
died  away.  If  we  were  to  stand  here  a  week  those 
sensitive  plants  would  remain  underground  all  the  time. 
I  once  drove  a  lot  of  wax  sensitive  plants  into  the 
ground,  and  then  stole  softly  away.  They  didn't  hear 
me  move  off,  and  when  I  passed  the  spot  a  day  or  two 
ago  they  had  not  reappeared.  They  probably  think  I 
am  standing  there  yet." 

"  What  kind  of  a  bird  is  that  ?"  asked  Tommy,  as  he 
noticed  a  specimen  that  could  shoot  its  neck  out  to 
almost  any  length.  It  would  sit  on  the  ground  and 
look  at  a  wax  pear  growing  twenty  feet  above  ;  then  it 
would  gradually  stretch  its  neck  forth,  and  it  would 
lengthen  and  lengthen  until  the  bird's  bill  came  in  con- 
tact with  the  pear,  which  it  plucked  and  drew  back.  It 
seemed  strange  where  all  the  neck  could  go  to.  There 
didn't  seem  to  be  bird  enough  to  contain  it.  After  they 
had  looked  at  it  for  a  while  the  bird  gradually  thrust 
its  head  forth  until  it  reached  a  limb  some  thirty  feet 
above.  It  took  hold  of  this  limb  with  its  bill,  and  grad- 
ually drew  itself  up  until  it  sat  contentedly  on  the  tree. 
14 


210  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

This  movement  was  so  grotesque  that  not  one  of 
the  party  could  refrain  from  laughing. 

"  I  should  feel  very  sorry  for  that  bird  if  it  should 
ever  get  a  throat  trouble,"  said  Tommy ;  "  for  it  would 
have  such  an  awful  area  of  throat  to  take  care  of." 

They  all  laughed  at  this,  and  the  Prose  Bear  asked 
Tommy  as  a  personal  favor  not  to  let  any  such  chance 
slip  to  arouse  the  King,  as  it  would  tend  to  cheer  him 
up  and  make  him  forget  the  horrible  dream  that  he 
was  so  shortly  to  have.  Tommy  promised  the  Prose 
Bear  to  do  all  in  his  power  to  amuse  the  King,  and  to 
try  to  find  places  in  the  conversation  where  he  could 
wedge  in  a  joke  or  a  pleasantry. 

Then  the  queer  bird  swung  down  from  the  limb  and 
commenced  rocking  to  and  fro  like  a  pendulum. 
Sometimes  it  would  swing  all  the  way  around.  And 
it  stretched  its  neck  a  little,  and,  taking  a  good  aim, 
knocked  a  wax  monkey  off  another  limb  and  frightened 
him  half  out  of  his  wits. 

The  Lyric  Bear  seemed  greatly  amused  at  the  dis- 
comfiture of  the  poor  Wax  Monkey,  and  at  the  airy 
way  in  which  the  bird  kept  swinging  round  and  round. 

"  Oh,  I'd  rather  be  a  donkey 

In  the  south  of  sunny  Spain, 
Than  a  sugar-coated  monkey 
On  an  organ-grinder's  chain." 

Bang!  The  queer  bird  had  lengthened  his  neck, 
and  cut  the  Lyric  Bear's  rhapsody  short  by  coming  so 
swiftly  in  contact  with  his  jaw  that,  before  he  knew 
it,  he  swallowed  his  smile,  and  looked  as  woe-begone 
as  a  black  cat  in  a  snow-storm.  They  all  laughed 
heartily,  and  thought  it  a  splendid  joke  on  the  poor 
Lyric  Bear  to  have  his  hilarity  cut  short  when  it  was 


A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND  211 

at  the  expense  of  another's  suffering.  And  in  this 
langh  they  were  joined  by  the  Wax  Monkey  himself. 

"  What  is  the  name  of  this  telescopic  bird  ?"  Tommy 
asked. 

"  He  has  no  name,"  said  the  King,  "  because  no  one 
has  yet  thought  of  one  that  fits  him." 

"  How  would  the  Whirlaway  Bird  do,  on  account  of 
his  great  whirling  powers?" 

"  First-rate,"  said  the  King ;  "  we  shall  hereafter  call 
him  the  Whirlaway  Bird." 

The  Lyric  Bear  was  told  to  announce  the  fact  from 
one  end  of  Waxland  to  the  other,  which  he  did  in  the 
following  lines : 

THE  WHIRLAWAY  BIRD. 

"  Oli,  say,  have  you  heard 
Of  the  Whirlaway  Bird  ? 

It's  a  bird  of  the  mountain  and  sea. 
It's  like  rubber  all  through, 
To  which  fact  it  is  due 

It  can  stretch  till  it  looks  round  a  tree. 

"  On  the  mosses  it  struts, 
While  it  gathers  the  nuts 

In  the  sun  on  the  very  top  limbs. 
Oft  it  whirls  through  the  sky 
With  a  doleful  '  ki  yi !' 

And  it  never  takes  cold  when  it  swims. 

"  Like  a  ball  it  will  bound 
When  it  lights  on  the  ground, 

Then  its  neck  stretches  forth  like  a  staff, 
Till  it  seems  in  one's  eyes, 
All  through  sudden  surprise, 

Like  an  ornithologic  giraffe. 

"  When  the  night  curtain  drops, 
Then  its  wild  whirling  stops, 


212  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

And  it  drifts  upon  winglets  care -free 
To  a  slumber  profound, 
In  its  neck  snugly  wound, 

At  the  top  of  the  wild  rubber- tree." 

They  were  then  attracted  to  the  "NVhirlaway  Bird  by 
his  increasing  the  speed  of  his  revolutions  to  such  an 
extent  that  he  could  be  heard  but  not  seen.  Suddenly 
the  whirring  stopped,  and  they  saw  its  author  about 
two  hundred  feet  above  the  tree.  It  had  lost  its  grip, 
and  was  shot  almost  out  of  sight,  where  it  spread  its 
wings  and  floated  swiftly  away. 

Just  as  the  Whirlaway  Bird  had  entirely  disappeared 
Tommy  shouted, 

"  Oh,  hear  the  music  !" 

"  That  is  the  music  of  the  wax  band,"  said  the  Prose 
Bear.  "  Did  you  ever  hear  wax  music  before  ?" 

"  Xever,"  replied  Tommy ;  "  and  I  think  it  very 
lovely  in  spite  of  its  greasy  sound.  But  what  is  it 
playing  for?" 

"  For  the  wax  dolls  to  dance  to,"  said  the  Prose 
Bear.  "  They  are  having  a  holiday  and  a  picnic." 

So  the  whole  party  sat  down  and  watched  the  dolls, 
as  soon  as  they  were  near  enough  to  gain  a  good  view. 

It  was  remarkable  to  Tommy,  who  had  never  before 
enjoyed  the  novelty  of  seeing  wax  dolls  dance,  to  ob- 
serve how  gracefully  they  moved  about.  They  danced 
on  a  smooth  wax  floor,  and  the  wax  band  played  in  a 
pretty  wax  pagoda.  No  two  of  them  were  dressed 
alike,  and  they  all  looked  so  lovely  that  the  society  re- 
porter must  have  been  sorely  puzzled  to  do  every  one  . 
justice.  Although  it  was  daytime,  they  had  their 
floor  surrounded  by  burning  wax  candles  to  justify 
their  evening  dress. 

After  they  had  danced  for  a  long  time  the  musicians 


A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND  213 

played  a  march,  and  each  little  wax  gentleman  doll 
took  a  pretty  little  wax  lady  doll  on  his  arm,  and  they 
filed  away  from  the  dancing  floor  to  the  refreshment 
table. 

The  King's  forthcoming  dream  began  to  weigh 
heavily  upon  him  again,  and  the  Prose  Bear  knew  that 
something  would  have  to  be  done  very  quickly  to 
drive  the  impression  away.  So  he  conveyed  his  mean- 
ing to  the  Lyric  Bear,  who  suddenly  burst  forth : 

THE  STORK. 

"  Oli,  once  we  had  a  sleepy  stork, 

And  he  was  full  of  songs ; 

We  used  to  make  his  airy  legs 

Serve  for  a  pair  of  tongs. 

"  He'd  clean  the  ashes  neatly  up 

With  both  his  wings,  and  make 
His  bill  a  poker,  and  the  coals 
Red  hot  he'd  rake  and  shake. 

"He'd  pick  pins  out  of  cracks  at  will 

In  manner  strangely  droll — 
He'd  oft  eclipse  a  pair  of  shears 
Biting  a  button-hole. 

"  From  crannies  he  would  often  fetch 

The  ancient  burglar  rat — 
Upon  one  foot  he'd  often  stand, 
In  t'other  hold  his  hat. 

"Upon  the  lawn  he  killed  himself 

Through  eating  by  mistake 
The  garden  hose,  which  seemed  to  him 
An  ordinary  snake." 

At  the  conclusion  the  King  clapped  his  hands  with 
delight  and  the  Queen  smiled,  although  she  didn't 


214  A    DAY    IX    WAXLAND 

hear  a  word  of  it.  The  Lyric  Bear  was  so  happy  that 
he  burst  into  a  reel,  and  danced  until  he  was  footsore 
and  weary.  Completely  out  of  breath,  he  sat  down  on 
the  wax  sward.  All  the  rest  sat  down  to  rest  while  he 
was  resting.  After  they  were  all  seated,  a  voice  came 
from  the  wax  thicket.  It  was  a  sweet,  musical  voice, 
and  it  said,  "  May  I  come  and  sit  down  there  and  rest 
with  you  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  they  replied. 

There  was  a  gentle  flutter,  and  a  fair  lithe  spirit  in 
pearly  robes  alighted  among  them.  She  had  soft  white 
skin  and  softer  blue  eyes,  and  her  hair  was  long  and 
golden,  and  had  anemones  and  wild  roses  tangled  in 
its  shining  meshes. 

"  Who  are  you  ?"  asked  the  King,  pleasantly. 

"  I  am  the  Summer  Wind,"  she  replied,  modestly. 

"  And  how  did  you  come  here  ?"  she  was  asked. 

"  I  was  on  my  way  through  a  wood  some  distance 
from  here  when  I  fell  asleep  on  a  spray  of  clematis, 
and,  while  asleep,  floated  away  from  my  fragrant 
cradle,  and  awoke  to  find  myself  drifting  down  a  candy 
staircase.  I  sailed  across  a  great  sea  of  pansies,  and 
finally  found  myself  here." 

"  Don't  you  tire  of  wandering  aimlessly  about  ?" 

"  Oh,  my,  no ;  I  never  grow  tired  of  my  roving  ca- 
reer ;  but  it  is  not  aimless.  My  duty  is  to  wait  on  the 
summer  all  the  year  round.  It  is  never  summer  every- 
where at  once,  and  after  I  blow  the  flowers  open  in 
one  latitude  I  fly  to  a  more  northerly  one  to  open  the 
flowers  there.  Grow  tired  ?  Why,  I  don't  know  what 
it  is  to  be  weary.  I  laugh  in  the  rustling  tree  ;  I 
sleep  on  the  rippling  waters ;  my  play-ground  is  on 
the  bosom  of  the  ocean,  and  the  fleecy  cloud  is  my 
ship." 


R.feJr  lithe  spirit  in  pearly  robes  alfghled 


A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND  217 

"Where  did  you  come  from  just  now?"  asked  the 
King. 

"  I  am  just  back  from  a  tour  of  China,  the  land  of 
tea-roses.  I  lingered  there,  in  gardens  shaded  by 
mulberry-trees,  until  all  the  flowers  were  in  bloom,  and 
then  I  went  skimming  across  the  sea  to  New  Mexico, 
gathering  and  dispensing  spice  along  the  way.  When- 
ever I  rested  on  the  sea  the  ships  had  to  stand  still. 
Whenever  there  is  a  calm  at  sea  you  may  know  I 
am  either  dreaming  or  elsewhere ;  and  when  you 
see  the  trees  perfectly  motionless  it  means  that  I 
am  off  on  some  lake  dancing  about  from  one  lily  to 
another." 

"  There  is  a  wax  ^Eolian  harp  attached  to  the 
Queen's  palanquin,"  said  the  Prose  Bear. 

The  Summer  Wind  rose  from  the  ground  and  began 
moving  through  the  harp  between  and  around  the 
strings,  and  the  loveliest  music  floated  out  upon  the 
air.  The  gentle  spirit  smiled  as  she  saw  how  keenly 
her  music  was  appreciated.  Only  when  she  passed 
through  the  harp  could  it  be  seen  that  she  was  air, 
because  the  strings  went  right  through  her. 

"  I  wish  you  would  get  tangled  in  that  harp,"  said 
the  King,  "  and  never  be  able  to  get  out,  for  then  I 
should  lead  a  happier  life,  soothed  by  your  pensive, 
dreamy  strains." 

The  Summer  Wind  then  flew  out  of  the  harp. 

"What  now?"  asked  the  King. 

"  I  must  away,"  said  the  Summer  Wind,  in  reply — 
"  I  must  away  to  a  latitude  far  north  of  this,  where 
many  a  field  of  flowers  is  waiting  to  be  kissed  into 
blossom.  Farewell !" 

Before  they  could  say  anything  to  the  Summer 
Wind  she  had  risen  quite  a  distance  above  the  ground, 


218  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

and  as  she  was  passing  away  she  smiled  and  threw  a 
spray  of  white  clematis  to  them. 

"  May  I  come  over  there  and  sit  down  with  you-f 
came  from  another  thicket. 

"  You  may,"  was  the  unanimous  reply. 

In  an  instant  a  great  burly,  rough  spirit,  gray-blue 
in  color,  with  icicles  for  hair  and  beard,  and  a  sword 
of  ice,  floated  in  and  sat  down. 

"  Who  are  you  ?"  asked  the  Prose  Bear. 

"  I  am  the  Winter  Wind.  I  am  the  little  gentleman 
that  cuts  your  face  like  a  country  barber,  and  makes 
your  ears  blaze  like  a  pair  of  pickled  red -peppers. 
Whew  !" 

This  last  syllable  was  a  gust  of  wind  blown  from  his 
mouth  to  show  his  quality.  He  blew  out  all  the  burn- 
ing wax  candles  on  a  tree  fifty  feet  distant,  and  took 
all  the  wax  feathers  off  a  wax  turkey  that  was  on  the 
topmost  limb.  The  turkey  was  plucked  as  neatly  as 
though  the  operation  had  been  performed  by  hand. 

"  Oh,  I  tell  you,"  continued  the  Winter  Wind,  as  he 
drew  his  ice  sword  across  his  nose  a  few  times  to  see 
that  the  edge  was  keen,  "  I  am  the  old  original  Winter 
Wind !  I  am  no  small  breeze  or  zephyr.  I  lift  trees 
from  the  ground  by  the  roots;  I  move  houses  miles 
without  letting  them  touch  the  ground,  and  sometimes, 
for  a  joke,  I  blow  a  ship  out  of  the  water  and  leave 
it  'way  up  on  a  mountaintop."  Here  he  ran  his  fin- 
gers through  his  icicle  hair  and  beard.  "  I  just  do 
this  to  keep  my  hands  cool,"  he  explained.  "  I  wish 
I  had  a  nice  refrigerator  to  take  a  sleep  in.  I  am 
afraid  that  if  I  stay  around  here  much  longer  I  shall 
melt  into  a  zephyr,  and  spend  the  rest  of  my  days  loll- 
ing about  in  sunny  garden  nooks,  and  be  the  com- 
panion of  bees  and  butterflies." 


A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND  219 

He  was  then  told  about  the  yEolian  harp,  to  take  his 
mind  off  the  subject  of  his  being  melted.  In  an  instant 
he  was  going  through  the  harp  just  as  the  Summer 
Wind  had  done.  But  the  effect  was  entirely  different. 
Instead  of  the  gentle,  dreamy  music  of  the  Summer 
Wind,  the  harp  gave  out  the  doleful  wail  of  the  Win- 
ter Wind  across  icy  leas  and  through  the  leafless  for- 
est. The  harp  moaned  and  sobbed,  until  finally  its 
strings  snapped,  and  the  surly  Winter  Wind  rattled 
his  icicle  hair  and  beard  and  floated  a  short  distance 
in  the  air. 

"  I  shall  be  in  Greenland  to-night,"  said  he,  with  a 
breath  that  made  them  all  chilly,  "and  if  I  don't  see 
you  again,  farewell." 

He  then  flew  far  up  in  the  air,  and  in  a  moment 
there  was  a  wax  snow-storm.  And  it  was  the  grand- 
est and  prettiest  snow-storm  that  Tommy  had  ever 
seen.  The  flakes  were  as  large  as  daisies,  and  very 
much  the  same  shape,  and  as  they  fluttered  through 
the  air  the  effect  was  very  pleasant.  This  was  owing 
very  largely  to  the  fact  that  the  falling  flakes  were  of 
different  colors,  and  as  they  came  down  so  thick  and 
fast  they  looked  like  flowers  of  silk  of  the  most  deli- 
cate tints.  Already  the  ground  was  covered,  and  the 
sight  was  dazzling  beyond  description. 

"  How  far  off  is  night  now  ?"  asked  the  King,  sud- 
denly. 

"  Three  weeks,"  replied  the  Prose  Bear. 

"  Then  let  us  return  to  the  shore  of  the  Great  Wax 
or  Moon  Sea,  and  await  the  gathering  shadows  and  the 
spiritual  lullaby  of  the  Wax  Dolphin." 


VI 


AFTER  the  King's  command  that  they  return  to  the 
shores  of  the  Great  Wax  or  Moon  Sea,  they  all  arose 
to  obey  him.  At  the  suggestion  of  the  Prose  Bear  it 
was  decided  that  they  should  return  in  a  different 
direction,  as  new  sights  would  no  doubt  cause  the 
King  to  brood  less  upon  the  subject  of  the  dream  that 
was  now  only  three  ordinary  weeks,  or  fifteen  Waxland 
minutes,  distant. 

So  they  wended  their  steps  to  the  banks  of  the  Wax 
River,  that  flowed  in  a  circuitous  course,  and  ended 
only  a  short  distance  from  one  end  of  the  Great  Wax 
Sea.  As  the  river  was  only  a  short  distance,  it  took 
little  time  to  reach  its  banks.  It  was  a  lovely  sight  to 
see  the  little  wax  houses,  white  as  snow,  standing  back 
a  hundred  feet  or  so  from  the  river,  surrounded  by 
twinkling  green  fields,  and  canopied  by  cloudless  blue 
skies.  The  pastoral  charm  of  the  scene  was  heightened 
by  the  songs  of  birds  and  the  mellow  murmur  of  the 
Wax  River.  Little  wax  boys  were  bathing  in  the  river 
when  they  should  properly  have  been  in  school  pre- 
paring themselves  to  become  respectable  Waxlanders. 

The  music  of  the  King's  feet  announced  his  com- 
ing, and  long  before  he  was  at  the  riverside  the  banks 
were  alive  with  his  subjects.  The  King  had  a  small 
floating  wax  palace  on  the  river,  that  he  might  take  a 
sail  when  he  felt  in  the  mood  for  an  airing. 


A    DAY    IN    WAXLAXD  221 

It  was  only  a  short  time  before  they  were  on  board 
and  in  the  middle  of  the  stream,  sailing  listlessly  with 
the  tide.  As  they  drifted  along,  the  wax  farmers  ran 
down  to  the  banks  to  cheer,  and  the  wax  cattle  looked 
up  from  their  monotonous  surrounding,  tossed  their 
heads  in  the  air,  and  looked  upon  the  strange  sight 
with  large-eyed  wonder. 

An  occasional  flock  of  sheep  and  a  windmill  ap- 
pealed to  the  artistic  sympathies  of  the  Wax  King,  and 
Tommy  himself  said  that  he  had  never  before  seen 
anything  imbued  with  and  breathing  such  a  languid 
spiritual  beauty. 

The  sail  was  altogether  too  delightful  and  charming 
for  description. 

At  length,  in  the  distance,  Tommy  saw  a  pale,  white, 
indistinct  plain,  and  asked  what  it  was. 

"  That,"  said  the  Prose  Bear,  "  is  the  Great  Wax  or 
Moon  Sea.  The  sun  is  getting  low,  the  shadows  of 
wax  twilight  are  beginning  to  gather,  and  it  is  just 
gray  enough  to  make  the  sea  faintly  visible.  As  it 
grows  darker,  the  Moon  Sea  becomes  brighter,  until  it 
glistens  like  frosted  silver." 

"  Oh,  that's  the  way  the  Moon  Sea  glows 
When  on  Waxland  its  rays  it  throws ; 
Like  wax  rain  strands  from  the  bright  wax  sky — 
Oh,  give  me  a  piece  of  cranberry  pie." 

warbled  the  Lyric  Bear,  who  was  simply  beside  him- 
self with  joy. 

"Are  there  any  fish  in  the  Wax  River?"  Tommy  asked. 

"  Oh  my,  yes !"  replied  the  Prose  Bear.  "  It  is  full 
of  fish  and  rocks,  just  like  any  other  river,  except  that 
the  fish  and  stones  are  wax,  but  a  different  kind  of 
wax  from  the  river  itself  that  they  may  not  blend. 


222  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

The  ocean,  you  know,  is  full  of  sponge,  but  Wax  River 
is  full  of  sponge-cake." 

"  Let's  get  some  !"  exclaimed  Tommy,  rapturously. 

A  hook  was  lowered  into  the  water  and  a  lot  of 
sponge-cake  was  brought  up.  They  all  ate  heartily 
of  it  except  Tommy.  He  had  never  tasted  wax  sponge- 
cake before,  and  concluded  from  his  first  experience 
that  a  fondness  for  it  must  be  an  acquired  taste. 

"  Oh,  we're  going  to  run  aground,"  said  Tommy. 

"  Excuse  me,"  replied  the  Prose  Bear,  with  a  smile  ; 
"  you  should  say  run  awax." 

Tommy  smiled  in  spite  of  his  fear.  And  what  was 
his  surprise  to  see  the  floating  wax  palace  run  right 
up  the  bank,  and  continue  up  one  side  of  a  hill  and 
down  the  other.  What  surprised  him  most  was  the 
fact  that  the  floating  wax  palace  did  not  increase  its 
speed  going  downhill.  It  descended  the  steepest  de- 
clivity at  precisely  the  same  rate  that  it  would  have 
ascended  it.  And  another  peculiar  thing  was  that  no 
one  in  the  floating  wax  palace  ever  lost  his  balance 
for  a  moment.  The  pictures  on  the  walls  did  not 
swing,  the  furniture  did  not  move,  and  if  it  were  not 
for  the  windows  every  passenger  would  have  believed 
he  was  sailing  on  the  level. 

"  It  seems  very  funny,"  Tommy  said  at  length,  "  that 
this  ship  should  run  uphill.  How  does  it  do  it?" 
j  "  With  wheels,"  replied  the  Prose  Bear,  solemnly. 
"  It  has  a  number  of  wheels  underneath  that  propel  it 
on  the  Wax  River;  and  although  it  is  considered 
highly  improper  to  question  any  of  the  subtle  myste- 
ries of  Waxland,  yet  I  feel  justified  in  telling  you  that 
it  is  a  popular  belief  here  that  the  river  winds  the 
machinery  up,  and  revolves  the  wheels  at  such  a  rate 
that  they  keep  going  for  several  days  after  the  float- 


A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND  223 

ing  wax  palace  is  out  of  it.  The  best  wax  authorities 
hold  this  theory,  which,  in  spite  of  elaboration  and 
argument,  is  still  only  a  theory  and  nothing  more.  Do 
I  make  myself  quite  clear  to  you  ?" 

"  Oh,  perfectly,  perfectly,"  said  Tommy. 

"  That  being  the  case,"  continued  the  Prose  Bear, 
referring  to  the  floating  wax  palace,  "it  keeps  running 
right  along  at  the  same  rate  of  speed,  and  I  don't  sup- 
pose it  is  possible  for  it  to  stop  until  it  runs  down 
like  a  clock ;  and  then  I  don't  think  you  can  get  out 
of  it  until  it  stops,  and  of  course  it  stops-abruptly." 

This  all  seemed  so  strange  to  Tommy  that  he  almost 
fancied  that  the  old  Prose  Bear  was  simply  joking. 
But  this  impression  he  could  not  continue  to  enter- 
tain, because  the  honesty  imprinted  on  every  feature 
of  the  Bear's  face  made  it  impossible  to  believe  for  a 
moment  that  he  could  be  guilty  of  such  a  thing. 

The  shadows  continued  to  gather,  and  in  the  dis- 
tance the  light  of  the  Great  Wax  Sea  could  be  seen 
reflected  against  the  sky. 

"  I  hope  we  shall  be  in  time  to  see  the  Wax  Dol- 
phin," said  Tommy. 

"  I  don't  think  you  will  be  disappointed,"  replied 
the  Prose  Bear.  He  was  going  to  say  something 
more,  but  the  floating  wax  palace  suddenly  came  to 
the  shore  of  the  Moon  Sea,  and  went  rolling  down 
towards  that  part  of  the  wax  amphitheatre  where  the 
King  and  Queen  had  their  royal  seats. 

But  when  the  floating  wax  palace  reached  this  spot 
it  would  not  stop.  It  was  plain  to  all  that  they  would 
have  to  remain  contented  in  their  present  situation 
until  it  came  to  a  stand-still. 

The  King,  seeing  their  predicament,  ordered  the 
floating  wax  palace  to  be  sent  whirling  around  the 


224  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

roadway  that  bordered  the  Great  Wax  Sea — the  road 
around  which  they  had  seen  the  wax  storks  madly 
race  for  the  jewelled  crown  of  Storkdom. 

The  floating  wax  palace  kept  whirling  around  and 
around,  and  it  was  truly  a  beautiful  sight.  The  Great 
Wax  Sea  looked  like  a  sheet  of  silver  fire,  which  it 
really  was.  But  the  heat  of  it  could  not  be  felt  ex- 
cept when  it  was  touched ;  and  certain  birds,  like  the 
stork,  on  being  crowned,  could  not  feel  the  heat  of  it. 
But  if  that  stork  once  returned  after  rising  from  its 
surface,  he  would  be  burned  in  an  instant.  For  this  rea- 
son the  floating  wax  palace  was  not  headed  into  the 
Great  Wax  Sea.  As  it  was  growing  quite  dark,  they 
all  began  to  listen  for  the  lullaby  of  the  Wax  Dolphin. 
Presently  they  heard  the  following 

INVOCATION  TO  SLEEP. 

"  Come,  oh,  sleep,  so  sweet  and  rosy, 

Close  our  eyelids  softly  now, 
As  the  night  wind  shuts  the  posy, 
When  the  bird  is  on  the  bough. 

"  Lead  us  to  your  mystic  bower, 

Where  the  soothing  poppy  grows, 
Where  bright  visions  brightly  flower, 
Shedding  fragrance  like  a  rose. 

"Wave  your  wand,  and  lead  us  thither, 

Where  white  lily  hedges  wreathe 
Pleasant  hills  whose  charms  ne'er  wither, 
Where  JBolian  zephyrs  breathe. 

"Wave  o'er  us  your  downy  tresses, 

Breathe  on  us  your  breath  so  sweet, 
And  with  all  your  coy  caresses 
Lead  our  tired  and  wearv  feet. 


A    DAY    IN  .WAXLAND  225 

"Wave  your  hyaciuthine  pinion 
That  we  all  may  glide  away 
To  that  roseate  dominion 

Where  it's  brighter  far  than  day." 

As  the  last  syllables  died  away  like  a  bird  song,  the 
Wax  Dolphin  could  be  seen  gliding  languidly  about 
on  the  bosom  of  the  Great  Wax  Sea,  waving  a  wreath 
of  poppies.  Tommy  noticed  the  King  begin  to  yawn, 
while  the  Queen  had  to  rub  her  eyes  to  keep  awake. 
The  motion  of  the  floating  wax  palace  seemed  to  keep 
them  all  from  falling  asleep.  Tommy  and  the  two 
bears,  not  being  made  of  wax,  were,  of  course,  not  sus- 
ceptible to  the  witcheries  of  the  luxurious  Wax  Dol- 
phin. And  they  enjoyed  it  all  very  much. 

"  What  was  that  sound  ?"  asked  Tommy. 

"  It  was  some  clumsy  lop  -  sided  bird,"  said  the 
Prose  Bear,  "  that  fell  asleep  and  lost  its  balance.  It 
may  have  fallen  fifty  feet,  but  it  will  never  wake  up 
until  to-morrow  morning,  which  is  six  months  distant 
from  the  present  moment." 

The  King  grew  sleepier  and  sleepier,  and  so  did  the 
Queen,  and  the  floating  wax  palace  began  to  lose  its 
speed,  or,  as  the  Prose  Bear  put  it,  "the  speed  was 
fading  gradually  out  of  the  wheels." 

So  they  headed  it  for  the  wax  palace  of  Waxem, 
and,  strange  as  it  may  appear,  the  wheels  fell  asleep 
directly  in  front  of  the  palace  door. 

The  Queen  was  borne  up  the  steps  by  the  two  bears 
— for  every  one  else  in  Waxland  was  asleep — and  left 
in  her  palanquin  in  a  sumptuous  bower  that  invited 
rest.  When  they  came  back  to  take  the  King  to  his 
couch,  he  jumped  away  from  them  and  ran. 

He  was  sound  asleep,  but  still  he  ran  and  ran,  and  it 
was  impossible  to  overtake  him. 
15 


226  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

They  could  hear  the  music  very  distinctly,  but  that 
was  no  clew  to  his  whereabouts,  because  it  sounded  no 
louder  one  foot  off  than  it  did  at  a  distance  of  twenty 
miles. 

"  It  was  his  dream  that  frightened  him  into  a  run,'' 
said  the  Prose  Bear,  "  and  it  is  my  opinion  that  he  is 
now  running  for  dear  life,  with  the  elephant  at  his 
heels." 

Whenever  the  music  of  his  feet  stopped  they  knew 
he  was  resting.  Sometimes  it  would  stop  for  a  min- 
ute, and  then  by  its  time  they  could  tell  that  he  was 
redoubling  his  efforts  to  put  more  space  between  him- 
self and  the  hated  elephant. 

"From  Waxland  I  must  take  my  flight, 
I  must  depart  when  falls  the  night," 

sang  the  Lyric  Bear. 

The  Prose  Bear  wept.  "  Now  I  have  got  to  go  back 
to  that  wax-doll  eye  department,  and  wait  for  you  to 
return — a  long  wait  of  six  weary  months." 

"  Ti.s  even  so,  'tis  even  so, 
But  why  it  is  I  hardly  know," 

replied  the  Lyric  Bear. 

Then  the  Lyric  Bear  took  Tommy  by  one  hand,  and 
the  Prose  Bear  took  him  by  the  other,  and  they  danced 
very  gracefully  along  to  the  rippling  melody  of  the 
King's  feet. 

When  after  a  while  they  came  near  the  field  of  pan- 
sies  they  saw  the  King  running  just  as  fast  as  he  could 
put  his  feet  on  the  ground.  It  was  useless  to  try  to 
catch  him,  because  he  would  have  the  dream  anywhere, 
and  it  would  be  impossible  to  wake  him  up.  The  Prose 
Bear's  idea  was  to  melt  him,  and  remould  him  in  the 


!  ^f^^yxxj^    =*5{s5^ 

^^^rS^^^I 


"(Shey  saur  (he  kinc^  running  as 


;^Kp«8»r«aw* 

fast  s&  he  could 


A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND  229 

morning ;  but  the  Lyric  Bear  thought  such  an  opera- 
tion might  prove  injurious,  so  it  was  abandoned. 

"  He  runs  beautifully,"  said  the  Prose  Bear,  with  ad- 
miration. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Tommy ;  "  but  the  race  is  really 
spoiled  by  not  being  able  to  see  the  elephant." 

"  There  isn't  any  elephant,"  said  the  Prose  Bear. 

"  Then  why  does  the  King  run  ?" 

"  To  get  away  from  the  elephant,"  replied  the  Prose 
Bear,  with  some  asperity. 

"But  you  just  said  there  was  no  elephant," responded 
Tommy,  timidly. 

"And  I  say  so  still,"  said  the  Prose  Bear.  "  When 
I  say  there  is  no  elephant,  I  mean  there  is  none  in 
reality.  And  when  I  say  there  is  an  elephant,  I  of 
course  allude  to  the  elephant  that  the  King  imagines 
is  after  him,  or  rather  the  elephant  that  exists  only  in 
his  dream." 

"Thank  you  very  much,"  murmured  Tommy,  "for 
your  kind  and  lucid  explanation.  It  is  all  as  clear  as 
day  to  me  now.  I  trust  you  do  not  think  I  was  trying 
to  chaff  you.  To  treat  you  with  anything  but  the 
greatest  politeness,  Mr.  Prose  Bear,  after  the  extreme 
kindness  you  have  shown  me  would  be  unpardonable 
on  my  part." 

"  Not  at  all,  not  at  all,  Tommy,"  said  the  Prose  Bear; 
"  and  I  pray  you  will  kindly  excuse  me  for  my  seeming 
impoliteness.  I  was  a  little  put  out  over  the  dilemma 
of  the  poor  King." 

At  the  pansy  meadow  Tommy  and  the  Lyric  Bear 
shook  hands  with  the  Prose  Bear,  and  left  him  watch- 
ing that  beautiful  wax-doll  eye  department. 

Then  the  Lyric  Bear  took  Tommy  on  his  back,  and 
waded  across  the  river  on  the  frontier  of  Waxland,  just 


230  A    DAY    IN    WAXLAND 

as  he  had  done  on  the  occasion  of  their  entrance  into 
that  wonderful  domain  of  his  Wax  Majesty  Waxem. 

Once  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  it  was  only  a 
few  steps  to  the  winding  candy  staircase.  Up  this 
they  ran,  and  were  soon  outside  the  huge  sycamore 
entrance. 

"  Good-bye,  good-bye,  Mr.  Lyric  Bear,"  said  Tommy, 
when  the  Lyric  Bear  had  led  him  to  the  hill  overlook- 
ing the  house  from  which  he  had  shortly  before  wan- 
dered as  a  Suppawnee  Indian,  only  to  be  lost.  "  Good- 
bye, good-bye,"  he  repeated,  shaking  the  good  Lyric 
Bear  warmly  by  the  hand. 

And  the  Lyric  Bear,  visibly  affected,  replied: 

"Good-bye  now,  and  be  such  a  good  little  boy 
That  your  actions  will  e'er  fill  your  mother  with  joy." 


THE   HUKRISHOFFER 


THE   HUKKISHOFFEK 


}OMMY  BIGGENS  was  about  the  happiest 
boy  in  all  the  country.  His  heart  was  as 
light  as  thistle-down,  and  his  thoughts 
as  merry  as  the  songs  of  the  birds  that 
hopped  about  in  the  densely  shaded  trees 
of  the  garden.  Tommy's  happiness  was  such  that  he 
was  indulgent  to  his  little  sister,  and  failed  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  every  opportunity  offered  to  decorate  her 
doll's  face  with  paints ;  for  although  he  had  a  nice  little 
tin  box  full,  the  color  of  the  doll's  face  seemed  to  him 
sufficiently  true  to  nature,  and  he  gave  the  box  of 
paints  to  his  sister  to  use  in  decorating  shells. 

And  he  was  kind  to  the  cat  too — not  only  the  fam- 
ily cat,  but  the  cat  of  his  next-door  neighbor.  Not  a 
stone  was  thrown  at  the  vagrant  dog  that  looked  im- 
ploringly at  him  through  the  fence,  as  though  inquiring 
if  such  a  thing  as  a  bed  or  a  bone  could  be  given  him. 
Tommy's  happiness  was  due  to  the  fact  that  school 
had  just  closed  for  the  annual  summer  vacation.  His 
books  were  packed  away  in  the  closet  for  eight  weeks, 
and  Tommy  was  in  a  state  of  joy  that  would  not  be 


234  THE    HURRISHOFFKR 

anything  like  fully  appreciated  until  looked  back  to 
from  old  age. 

Tommy  had  won  the  prize  offered  to  the  boy  who 
should  stand  highest  in  his  class  at  the  breaking  up  of 
school,  and  for  this  record  he  was  to  receive  from  his 
father  a  cedar  canoe  just  large  enough  for  one  person. 
The  canoe  had  been  promised  Tommy  about  the  mid- 
dle of  the  previous  winter,  when  the  snow  was  lying 
deep  upon  the  ground,  and  the  biting  winds  were 
moaning  through  the  trees.  Although  a  canoe  offered 
no  great  inducement  at  that  season,  Tommy  studied  as 
hard  as  though  a  toboggan  had  been  the  coveted  re- 
ward. 

Great  was  the  envy  of  Tommy's  companions  when 
he  brought  them  in  to  see  the  canoe,  which  was  lying 
on  the  back  stoop,  glittering  with  an  oily  polish.  Tom- 
my had  never  owned  a  canoe  before,  but  he  had  pad- 
dled about  in  one  at  a  small  mountain  lake  where  the 
family  had  been  during  the  previous  summer,  so  that 
there  was  little  danger  of  his  capsizing.  A  number  of 
his  companions  helped  him  carry  the  frail  craft  back 
to  the  lake  in  the  woods,  as  they  were  anxious  to  see 
him  embark. 

They  all  clapped  their  hands  and  waved  their  hats 
and  shouted  as  Tommy  pushed  off  from  shore,  and 
dipped  the  paddle  into  the  water,  first  on  one  side 
and  then  on  the  other,  and  made  the  canoe  shoot  along 
like  an  arrow.  He  paddled  up  and  down  for  some 
time,  while  his  companions  shouted  suggestions  from 
the  shore. 

Finally  he  told  them  that  he  would  go  across  the 
lake,  and  paddle  into  the  cave,  the  entrance  of  which 
was  screened  by  the  foliage  of  some  birches  that  grew 
down  in  profusion  from  overhanging  crags,  until  they 


THE    HURRISHOFFER  237 

dipped  into  the  lake.  No  one  around  there  had  ever 
been  prompted  by  curiosity  to  enter  this  cavern,  and 
consequently  no  one  knew  anything  about  it.  There 
was  a  story  current  that  it  had  once  been  the  hiding- 
place  of  a  robber  band,  and  that  they  had  a  sort  of 
stair-way  running  up  under  the  mountain  which  they 
had  hollowed  out  like  a  snow-house.  It  was  likewise 
said  that  there  was  gold  hidden  there  in  great  quan- 
tities, but  no  one  had  ever  seen  fit  to  explore  the  place, 
and  nothing  was  absolutely  known  to  confirm  the 
report. 

So  when  Tommy  said  he  was  going  to  paddle  across 
to  the  cave  his  companions  were  happy  beyond  meas- 
ure, as  they  felt  sure  he  was  about  to  solve  a  long-con- 
sidered mystery,  and  come  back  with  a  story  that  would 
be  good  enough  to  print.  Besides,  if  he  got  any  of 
the  gold,  he  was  going  to  buy  each  of  the  boys  a  canoe, 
a  base-ball,  a  pair  of  skates,  and  all  the  candy  and  gin- 
gerbread he  could  eat  for  a  month.  His  sister  was 
also  to  have  a  new  doll  that  could  walk  and  wink,  and 
when  once  wound  up,  go  for  eight  days  like  a  clock. 

As  he  paddled  across  he  could  no  longer  hear  the 
voices  of  his  companions,  but  when  he  turned  he  could 
see  them  waving  their  hats  on  the  shore.  At  length 
he  reached  the  trees  that  grew  down  over  the  mouth 
of  the  cave,  and  placing  the  paddle  in  the  bottom  of 
the  canoe,  took  hold  of  the  branches,  and  peered 
through.  He  could  see  the  cave,  but  nothing  inside. 
It  was  simply  a  great  black  hole  about  as  large  as  the 
mouth  of  a  hogshead.  He  pulled  on  the  limbs  to  send 
the  prow  of  the  canoe  up  to  the  land,  where  he  intended 
to  disembark  and  enter  the  cave  afoot.  But,  much  to 
his  surprise,  the  prow  of  the  canoe  came  in  contact 
with  nothing,  but  drifted  right  into  the  cave. 


238  THE    HURRISHOFFEK 

Tommy  lay  down  in  the  canoe,  that  he  might  not 
bump  his  head  against  any  jagged  bit  of  rock  hanging 
from  the  roof  of  the  cave.  It  was  pitch-dark ;  even 
the  light  whicbs  had  just  a  moment  before  shone 
through  the  entrance  of  the  cavern  no  more  glistened 
on  the  water,  and  when  Tommy  sat  up  and  looked 
about  him  he  could  not  even  see  the  opening  by 
which  he  had  entered.  He  sat  still  for  a  few  minutes, 
and  then  lighted  a  match  to  see  where  he  was.  He 
simply  found  himself  in  an  underground  passage  that 
seemed  to  have  no  beginning  and  no  end.  As  he 
was  thinking  of  the  best  means  of  returning  to  the 
lake,  he  was  seized  with  fright,  for  he  could  not  tell  in 
which  direction  the  entrance  lay,  or  how  many  times 
he  had  turned  round.  Again  he  struck  a  match,  and 
as  soon  as  it  lighted  up  the  passage-way  he  saw  by  the 
surrounding  objects  that  he  was  moving,  and  that  he 
was  simply  drifting  on  an  underground  river. 

In  his  fright  he  had  just  enough  presence  of  mind 
left  to  lie  in  the  canoe  and  float  along.  The  thing  he 
dreaded  most  was  the  canoe  being  smashed  on  some 
rock,  but  still  he  knew  that  it  would  keep  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  stream,  in  the  current,  and  that  if  it  did  run 
aground,  of  course  it  would  have  to  be  in  shallow 
water.  Then  the  thought  dawned  upon  him  that  the 
water  might  not  be  over  a  foot  deep,  and  if  that  were 
the  case  he  could  get  out  and  wade  back  with  the  canoe 
on  his  shoulders.  He  concluded  that  the  lake  emptied 
into  the  river,  and  that  the  walk  or  wade  could  not  be 
a  very  long  one,  so  he  dipped  his  paddle  into  the  water 
to  find  bottom.  In  this  he  was  unsuccessful,  and  that 
settled  the  wading  question. 

On,  on  he  drifted  through  the  darkness,  until  he  fell 
asleep.  When  he  awoke,  he  couldn't  tell  how  long  he 


"  HE   STEPPED   ASHORE,   AND   PULLED   THE   CANOE   UP   AFTER   HIM." 


THE    HUREISHOFFEE  241 

had  slept,  but  still  he  was  sailing  along  with  the  tide, 
at  what  rate  and  in  what  direction  he  knew  not. 

He  could  think  of  nothing  that  was  pleasant.  Ev- 
ery moment  he  thought  the  stream  might  fall  in  a 
cascade,  and  if  he  went  over  one  of  them,  it  would  he 
the  last  of  him.  But  there  was  no  cataract,  and  the 
canoe  kept  on  in  the  middle  of  the  stream,  running 
straight  or  serpentinely ;  and  just  as  he  had  aban- 
doned all  hope  of  ever  seeing  the  light  of  day  again, 
he  caught  a  ray  about  a  hundred  feet  ahead.  Perhaps 
it  would  bring  him  out  in  another  part  of  the  lake 
from  which  he  entered.  At  any  rate,  he  would  be 
out  of  the  subterranean  river,  and  that  in  itself  was 
enough  to  look  forward  to.  In  another  moment  he 
shot  out  of  darkness,  and  into  a  broad,  placid  brook 
that  ran  through  a  luxurious  valley,  surrounded  by 
mountains  that  seemed  to  run  almost  straight  into  the 
air,  and  over  which  it  seemed  it  must  be  impossible  to 
climb. 

The  underground  river  seemed  to  be  the  only  en- 
trance, and  Tommy  felt  sure  that  he  would  find  nothing 
but  animals  and  birds  for  companions.  As  he  stepped 
ashore,  and  pulled  the  canoe  up  after  him,  he  heard  a 
peculiar  strain  of  strange  music,  which  seemed  to  be 
hummed  rather  than  sung,  and  he  crawled  up  softly  to 
look  around  the  corner  of  a  rock  a  few  yards  away  to 
get  a  glimpse  of  the  vocalist. 
16 


II 


As  Tommy  Biggens  crawled  up  to  the  rock  and 
looked  around  it,  he  was  somewhat  surprised.  The 
creature  that  was  humming  the  grotesque  melody  was 
a  great  unwieldy  thing  that  looked  like  a  wild  beast  with 
human  intelligence.  He  was  lead-colored,  and  could 
walk  either  upon  four  or  two  legs.  His  face  was  a 
most  good-natured  one,  his  cheeks  ruddy  with  good 
living,  and  his  eyes  were  soft  and  kindly,  and  seemed 
full  of  merriment,  as  though  he  was  thinking  over 
some  hy-gone  event  that  pleased  him. 

He  wore  nothing  but  a  white  high  hat,  which, 
queerly  enough,  had  a  mourning  band  around  it.  This 
hat  gave  him  the  air  of  being  civilized,  and  Tommy 
was  a  little  astonished  when  he  saw  him  throw  the  hat 
off  with  a  backward  jerk  of  the  head  and  catch  it  on 
his  tail,  and  then  throw  it  back  with  his  tail  and  catch 
it  on  his  head.  He  did  this  several  times,  and  his 
skill  was  so  great  that  he  could  perform  the  feat  with- 
out thinking  of  what  he  was  doing. 

Tommy  was  so  astonished  that  he  forgot  to  hide 
himself,  and  was  seen.  He  attempted  to  get  back  to 
his  canoe  as  rapidly  as  possible,  but  the  strange  animal 
shouted,  "  You  needn't  be  afraid  of  me ;"  so  Tommy 
stood.  "  Who  are  you,  little  boy  ?"  asked  the  strange 
animal. 

"  I'm  Tommy  Biggens.     Who  are  you  ?" 


"'  I  AM  THE  HUBRISHOFFER,'  REPLIED   THE    STRANGE  ANIMAL." 


THE    HURRISHOFFER  245 

"  I  ?"  replied  the  strange  animal,  laughing  at  the 
boy's  ignorance.  "  I  am  the  Hurrishoffer,  King  of  this 
beautiful  valley  of  Hurrishofferonia." 

Then  Tommy  told  him  his  adventure.  The  good- 
natured  King  said  he  was  truly  sorry  for  him,  as  there 
was  no  way  of  getting  out  of  the  valley  except  by  the 
underground  river,  and  that  was  impossible.  He  also 
assured  him  that  he  would  be  well  taken  care  of,  and 
that  made  Tommy  feel  a  little  better. 

They  finally  came  to  a  pool  in  which  a  fish  was 
sunning  himself  very  near  the  surface. 

"  Good-morning,  Mr.  Fish !"  said  Tommy,  politely, 
thinking  that  as  his  entertainer  could  talk,  probably 
the  fish  could  also. 

"  There's  no  use  talking  English  to  that  fish,"  ob- 
served the  Hurrishoffer. 

"  Why  not  ?"  asked  Tommy. 

"  Because  he's  a  Spanish  mackerel,  and  only  under- 
stands Castilian." 

While  Tommy  stood  silent  in  surprise  the  Hurri- 
shoffer went  on,  "  A  Welsh  rabbit  over  the  hill  yonder 
used  to  recite  a  piece  in  Welsh  called  by  a  name  that 
I  can't  remember,  but  which  sounded  like  Irish  linen 
being  torn." 

"  I'd  like  to  hear  it,"  said  Tommy. 

"  You  never  will,"  replied  the  King.  "  The  last  time 
he  did  it  we  killed  him.  Do  you  understand  any  dead 
languages?" 

"  Some,"  replied  Tommy,  hardly  knowing  what  he 
said. 

"  I  will  see  how  much  you  know.  We  will  take 
the  opening  lines  of  Virgil — '  Arma  virumque  cano,' 
etc.  Now,  then,  let  me  see  you  put  that  into  smoked 
tongue." 


246  THE    HURRISHOFFER 

"  I  can't  do  it,"  replied  Tommy,  with  a  puzzled  air. 

"  I  admire  your  frankness,"  said  the  King. 

They  walked  on  a  little  way,  when  Tommy  noticed 
large  bunches  of  fruit  growing  on  a  tree.  "  Are  those 
bananas?"  he  asked. 

"  No,  they're  sausages.  Who  ever  saw  lavender 
bananas  ?" 

"  What  kind  of  a  tree  is  it  ?"  asked  Tommy. 

"  A  dogwood,"  replied  the  King,  with  dignity. 

Then  he  thought  a  moment,  and  anticipated  Tommy 
by  saying,  "  If  you  get  off  any  joke  on  bark  in  connec- 
tion with  it,  your  life  will  be  drawn  speedily  to  a  close." 

"  These  trees  must  be  very  scarce  and  rare,"  said 
Tommy. 

"  Scarce  and  rare  !"  mused  the  King. 

"Aren't  scarce  and  rare  alike  ?"  asked  Tommy. 

"  Not  always,"  responded  the  King.  "  You  like  rare 
beef,  don't  you  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  how  do  you  like  scarce  beef  ?" 

Tommy  was  silent. 

"  Did  you  ever  wear  an  official  seal-skin  cap  ?" 

"  Never." 

"  Were  you  ever  in  the  Land  of  Green  Cheese  ?" 

"  Never,"  replied  Tommy. 

They  walked  on  some  distance  together,  and  finally 
Tommy  asked,  "  Where  are  we  going?" 

"Home,"  replied  the  Hurrishoffer ;  "and  you  shall 
have  a  nice  time  in  my  Candy  Garden  and  Food  Orchard. 
But  don't  ask  me  any  questions  just  now  ;  it  will  be  a 
pleasant  little  surprise  for  you.  To-morrow  will  be 
my  birthday,  and  all  Hurrishofferonia  will  be  on  hand, 
and  if  we  don't  have  a  fine  old  time,  then  all  I  have  to 
say  is  that  I  am  no  Hurrishoffer  at  all." 


THE    HURRISHOFFER  247 

"  How  old  will  you  be,  pray,  good  Mr.  Hurrishoffer  ?" 
asked  Tommy,  in  great  delight. 

"I  shall  be  one  hundred  and  eighty -four.  But 
don't  call  me  Mr.  Hurrishoffer ;  just  plain  Hurrishof- 
fer,  like  a  good  little  boy." 

Tommy  promised,  and  walked  on  with  the  King. 
Presently  they  met  a  thin  young  man,  who  looked  like 
a  stork,  except  that  he  had  arms  and  very  long  hair,  and 
a  flowing  purple  necktie  hanging  down  on  his  chest. 

"  Who  is  that  singular  person  ?"  asked  Tommy. 

"He  is  my  poet -laureate.  He  celebrates  in  verse 
all  the  peculiar  happenings  in  Hurrishofferonia.  He 
wrote  a  most  charming  ode  when  I  celebrated  the  one- 
hundredth  anniversary  of  my  birth.  He  also  writes 
other  pieces  for  his  own  amusement,  and  to  entertain 
us  on  fete  days." 

"  What  pay  does  he  get — a  penny  a  line  ?" 

"  Oh  no,"  responded  the  Hurrishoffer ;  "  he  gets  a 
penny  a  word,  which  rate  of  payment  gives  him  his 
name." 

"  And  what  is  his  name,  pray  ?" 

"His  name  is  Penny -a -Wordsworth.  Good-day, 
Penny-a- Wordsworth,"  said  the  Hurrishoffer.  "  What 
in  the  world  were  you  laughing  at  so  hard  as  we  ap- 
proached ?" 

"  At  a  little  poem  I  have  just  composed." 

"  Just  read  it  to  us,  please." 

So  Penny-a- Wordsworth  drew  himself  up  proudly, 
and  in  the  most  artistic  style  read : 

THE  FADING  MOSCOW. 

"  One  summer  we  owned  a  moscow, 

With  a  coat  as  fine  as  silk, 
And  every  night  and  morning 
She  gave  ten  quarts  of  milk. 


248  THE    HURRISHOFFEB 

"  Her  horns  like  ivory  glistened, 

Her  eyes  were  large  and  bright, 
And  she  was  an  omelet  yellow 
Wherever  she  wasn't  white. 

"  The  funny  part  of  the  story 

Is  what  you'd  never  guess: 

The  moscow  began  to  dwindle, 

In  size  grew  less  and  less, 

"  Until  she  was  even  smaller 
Than  any  new-born  veal, 
And  we  thought  that  if  we  killed  her 
She'd  only  make  one  meal. 

"And  the  ten  quarts  night  and  morning, 

Mentioned  when  I  commenced, 
Unto  a  half -pint  dwindled — 
A  half-pint — but  condensed.'' 

"  The  idea,"  said  the  Hurrishoffer,  "  is  that  the  cow, 
being  gradually  condensed  in  size  herself,  finally  gave 
condensed  milk,  isn't  it  ?" 

"  It  is,"  replied  the  poet,  meekly. 

"  Well,  you  were  justified  in  laughing  at  so  funny  a 
thing.  I  am  going  to  laugh  at  it  myself  as  soon  as  I 
can  find  time." 

"Is  that  how  you  appreciate  humor?"  inquired 
Tommy. 

"  It  is  just  the  way.  When  I  met  you  I  was  laugh- 
ing over  a  little  poem  that  Penny-a- Wordsworth  wrote 
about  three  years  ago.  It  was  a  lovely  ballad.  Let's 
have  it,  please  :  the  '  Ballad  of  the  Kilduf  and  the 
Kindling-wood-pecker.' " 

"  I  don't  think  I  can  recall  it  now." 

"  Oh  yes,  you  can,"  said  the  Hurrishoffer,  "  if  you 
only  want  to.  Come,  now,  vaseline  your  memory  a 
little,  and  try." 


'  PENNY- A- WORDSWORTH   DREW   HIMSELF   UP  PROUDLY.' 


THE    HURRISHOFFER  251 

Penny-a- Wordsworth,  thus  addressed,  dropped  his 
head  on  his  chest,  thought  deeply  for  a  moment,  and 
recited  slowly,  as  though  afraid  of  forgetting  the  lines: 

THE  BALLAD  OF  THE  KILDUF  AND  THE  KINDLING -WOOD- 
PECKER. 

'"At  the  top  of  a  doughnut-tree  lived  a  Kilduf 
With  a  navy  blue  tail  and  a  cardinal  ruff, 
And  one  day,  as  she  warbled  a  delicate  song, 
Did  a  Kindling-wood-pecker  came  hopping  along. 

"Oh,  the  Kindling-wood-pecker  was  lavishly  drest 
In  a  violet  hat  and  a  caraway  vest, 
And  the  way  that  be  ogled  and  smiled  was  enough 
To  upset  the  green  head  of  the  wisest  kilduf. 

"  '  Come,  my  pretty  Kilduf,  be  wedded  to  me ; 
I've  a  nice  cosey  castle  in  yon  whiffle-tree; 
We  were  meant  to  be  mates,  like  a  pair  of  kid  gloves, 
And  as  happy  we'll  be  as  two  mock- turtle  doves.' 

"  Then  'twas  softly  the  plump  little  Kilduf  replied, 
'I  have  promised  to  be  the  pert  Seersucker's  bride, 
And  it  useless  will  be  for  you  further  to  woo, 
So  you'd  best  don  your  violet  hat  and  go  to.' 

"Then  the  Kindling-wood-pecker  was  chilled  to  the  soul 
As  away  from  the  home  of  the  Kilduf  he  stole, 
And  thereafter  secured  in  the  merciless  wave 
What  is  commonly  known  as  a  watery  grave." 

"  Just  as  good  as  the  first  time  I  heard  it,"  said  the 
Hurrishoffer ;  "  I  could  stand  it  once  a  month.  Will 
you  pardon  me  if  I  dance  for  joy  on  this  happy  occa- 
sion ?" 

"  We  will,"  said  Tommy  and  Penny-a- Wordsworth. 

"  Thanks,"  said  the  Hurrishoffer. 

Then  he  got  on  a  nice  soft  green  spot,  and  danced 
and  laughed  until  he  was  completely  exhausted. 


Ill 


"  You  must  be  very  hungry,  Tommy  ?"  said  the  Hur- 
rishoffer,  when  he  had  recovered  his  breath  after  danc- 
ing for  joy. 

"  I  am,"  replied  the  boy. 

"  Are  you  fond  of  cream  tarts  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  How  do  you  like  cream  of  tartar  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Tommy. 

"  Do  you  like  ornithorhyncustard  pie  ?" 

"  I  never  tasted  it." 

"  Well,  we  are  at  the  Food  Orchard  now,  and  here 
is  everything  you  can  desire.  To  start  with,  there  is  a 
pie-plant." 

"  What  grows  on  it  ?" 

"  Pie,  of  course.  And  there's  a  lobster-croquette 
tree.  See  the  croquettes  turning  red  in  the  sun  ?" 

"  I  thought  lobsters  were  green,"  observed  Tommy. 

"  They  are  before  they're  cooked ;  so  are  the  lob- 
ster-croquettes before  the  sun  cooks  them.  Last 
spring  the  hierophant's  offspring  ate  a  lot  of  green 
croquettes,  and  he  was  twisted  so  badly  that  we  had 
to  straighten  him  by  a  stretching  process." 

"  Those  are  queer-looking  leaves  on  the  lobster-cro- 
quette tree." 

"  Those  are  buckwheat  cakes,"  said  the  Hurrishoffer. 
"  Do  you  ever  have  croup  ?" 


THE    HURRISHOFFER  255 

"What  has  that  to  do  with  buckwheat  cakes?" 
asked  Tommy. 

"  Never  you  mind  ;  do  you  ever  have  croup  ?" 

"  Sometimes." 

"  Then  we'll  make  your  couch  under  the  ipecactus 
yonder." 

"  I  hate  ipecac,"  said  Tommy. 

"  I  suppose  you  do,  but  medicine  is  all  right  in  its 
place — " 

"  Which  is  the  drug  store,"  broke  in  Tommy. 

"  There  is  a  liniment  bush  right  over  there,"  said 
the  Hurrishoffer,  without  noticing  the  interruption, 
"  beside  the  porcupine  tree  just  at  the  edge  of  the 
wall-flower  hedge.  This  is  the  drug  part  of  the  gar- 
den, with  the  exception  of  the  liver-pad  department, 
which  is  down  in  yonder  brook." 

"  You  are  very  kind  to  tell  me  all  these  things,"  said 
Tommy. 

"  I  want  you  to  know  all  about  Hurrishofferonia," 
replied  the  King,  "  from  the  joyful  sound  of  the  morn- 
ing clarion  of  the  kangarooster  to  the  flavor  of  the 
rocking-horse-radish.  You  see  that  object  that  looks 
like  a  yellow  rose  ?" 

«  Yes." 

"  Pluck  it,  and  eat  it." 

"  It  is  very  nice  indeed,"  said  Tommy.  "  What  is 
it,  anyhow  ?" 

"It  is  a  tailor's-gooseberry  tart." 

"  Have  you  any  ladies'-fingers  growing  here  ?" 

"  None,"  said  the  Hurrishoffer,  sadly ;  "  the  ladies 
lost  all  their  fingers  fooling  around  the  buzz-saw- 
sage,  which,  although  its  motto  is  '  hands  off,'  gener- 
ally takes  the  palm." 

"That  was  sad ;  but  what  kind  of  birds  are  those ?" 


256  THE    HURRISHOFFKR 

"  Mandrakes  and  candy  pullets,"  replied  the  King ; 
"  all  cooked  and  ready  to  be  eaten." 

"  I  would  like  some  plum-pudding." 

"  Come  right  with  me,  then,  and  you  shall  have  all 
you  want." 

So  they  walked  a  little  way  off  until  they  came  to  a 
plum-pudding  tree,  which  was  full  of  little  plum-pud- 
dings, each  on  a  plate.  And  then  there  was  a  spigot 
in  the  trunk  of  the  tree,  attended  by  a  meringue-o- 
tang,  which,  when  turned  on,  produced  the  sauce. 

Tommy  was  soon  engaged  upon  one,  which  he  pro- 
nounced splendid.  Then  he  was  shown  the  apricot- 
tage-pudding  tree,  the  dried-apple  tree,  the  cake  walk, 
the  keep-off-the-grass-hopper,  and  other  curiosities. 
He  was  delighted,  perhaps  most  of  all,  with  the  stool- 
pigeon  pot-pie.  He  ate  until  he  was  almost  helpless, 
and  then  told  the  Hurrishoffer  he  was  anxious  to  go 
into  the  Candy  Garden. 

Before  the  Hurrishoffer  led  the  way  he  said  :  "  When 
you  enter  the  Candy  Garden  do  not  allude  to  the  fact 
that  there  are  no  caramels  there,  because  it  makes  me 
sad.  Are  you  fond  of  stories  ?" 

"  Very,"  replied  Tommy. 

"  Then  let  us  sit  down  here  on  the  breezy  bed  of 
furbelotus,  and  I  will  tell  it  you.  It  is  an  epic,  and 
has  been  immortalized  by  Penny-a-\Vordsworth  in  a 
poem  entitled  '  The  Last  of  the  Caramels,'  which,  as  a 
literary  performance,  I  consider  the  Odyssey  of  Hurri- 
shofferonia.  It  is  a  long  poem,  finely  wrought,  and 
elaborated  to  the  finest  detail.  I  will  tell  it  you 
briefly  and  simply. 

"  Many  years  ago  the  Candy  Garden  was  more  dense- 
ly populated  by  the  Hopscotch  and  Caramels  than  by 
any  other  of  the  candy  races.  They  were  almost 


THE    HURRISHOFFBR  259 

equal  in  numbers,  and  were  very  jealous  of  each  other. 
To  try  to  keep  them  at  peace  with  each  other,  I  placed 
Miss  Chocolate  Eclair,  a  beautiful  little  cake  Princess, 
over  the  Candy  Garden  ;  but  in  spite  of  her  they  we.nt 
to  war.  They  used  sticks  of  candy  for  clubs  and 
battering-rams,  and  lemon  drops  for  missiles.  The 
war  was  carried  on  with  great  energy  by  both  sides, 
and  all  sunshine  and  prosperity  was  driven  out  of  the 
Candy  Garden  while  it  lasted.  First  the  Hopscotch 
would  gain  an  advantage,  and  then  be  repulsed  by  the 
Caramels,  who  were  determined  and  plucky  fighters. 
They  drove  each  other  all  over  the  Candy  Garden,  and 
up  through  the  Food  Orchard,  where  one  day  a  stray 
or  spent  Lemon  Drop  killed  Miss  Charlotte  Russe,  who 
was  sitting  on  the  Coltsfoot  Rock,  where  the  widow's 
weeds  grow.  The  Lemon  Drop  was  thrown  by  a  Cara- 
mel, who  was  observed  by  a  pudding.  The  Pudding 
was  hasty,  and  called  upon  its  tree  to  shake  them  all 
like  shells  upon  the  Caramels.  This  was  done,  and 
the  Caramels  were  totally  demoralized,  and  driven  out 
of  both  the  Candy  Garden  and  Food  Orchard  by  the 
Hopscotch,  who  took  advantage  of  their  enemy's  situ- 
ation, and  sent  them  forth  into  the  scorching  sun,  and 
kept  them  there  until  they  caramelted  and  were  absorbed 
by  the  ground." 

"  Oh,  how  dreadful !"  said  Tommy,  "  that  the  whole 
Caramel  tribe  should  be  killed  in  this  way  !" 

"  Alas !  you  who  are  not  a  Hurrishoffer  cannot  be- 
gin to  imagine  what  the  effect  was.  Will  you  pardon 
a  tear  or  two  in  one  who  is  perhaps  too  large  to  appear 
tender-hearted  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  said  Tommy. 

"  Thanks.     I  will  be  through  directly." 

Then  the   Hurrishoffer  sat  down  and  wept  like  a 


260  THE    HURBISHOFFER 

child ;  and  while  he  wept  his  great  body  swayed  to 
and  fro  with  emotion.  Finally  he  dried  his  eyes,  and 
seemed  himself  again. 

Then  they  went  into  the  Candy  Garden.  The  posts 
of  the  fence  that  surrounded  it  were  huge  sticks  of 
candy,  and  the  pickets  smaller  sticks,  and  were  of 
every  color.  The  paths  inside  were  made  of  mosaics 
of  molasses  candy,  and  under  some  of  the  cough- 
drop  arbors  there  were  rugs  and  carpets  of  marsh- 
mallow  and  jujube  paste. 

It  seemed  queer  to  Tommy  to  breathe  such  sweet 
air — for  it  was  all  flavored  with  candy — and  he  was 
not  a  little  surprised  when  a  vagrant  wind  stole  through 
the  trees  and  shook  about  a  peck  of  licorice  drops  into 
his  lap.  The  Hurrishoffer  took  a  great  rope  of  molas- 
ses candy,  and  threw  both  ends  over  the  projecting 
limb  of  a  burned-almond  tree,  and  thus  improvised  a 
swing,  into  which  Tommy  got,  at  his  request,  and  was 
kept  swinging  until  his  feet  went  away  up  into  the 
saccharine  foliage. 

"  Oh,  what's  that  noise  ?"  asked  Tommy,  as  he  heard 
a  sort  of  clatter  a  little  way  off. 

"  That  is  the  clatter  of  the  candy  animals  exercising." 

Tommy  looked  down,  and  there,  sure  enough,  he 
saw  a  lot  of  horses,  cows,  sheep,  and  ostriches  gallop- 
ing along  in  the  happiest  manner.  They  were  of  every 
color,  and  made  a  pretty  spectacle  as  they  pranced  by 
in  the  rays  of  the  rising  moon. 

"They  are  taking  a  little  exercise  before  retiring," 
said  the  Jlurrishoffer ;  "and  as  to-morrow  is  my  birth- 
day, perhaps  we  had  better  retire  too,  and  be  up  early 
for  the  sport.  I  will  make  a  couch  for  you  in  the  shadow 
of  the  ipecactus,  that  you  may  not  take  croup,  or  be  dis- 
turbed by  the  yowl  of  the  night-blooming  requiescat." 


IV 


EARLY  in  the  morning  Tommy  was  awakened  from 
his  slumber  by  the  crowing  of  the  kangarooster,  and 
a  little  later  the  Hurrishoffer's  favorite  Pooh-pooh — a 
sort  of  feathered  messenger — arrived,  and  told  Tommy 
to  prepare  for  a  rare  day's  sport. 

Tommy  thanked  the  Pooh-pooh  for  his  trouble,  and 
the  Pooh-pooh  smiled  pleasantly  on  Tommy ;  because 
Tommy  loved  the  Hurrishoffer,  who  was  the  Pooh- 
pooh's  dearest  friend.  When  Tommy  reached  the  green 
the  Hurrishoffer  insisted  on  his  sitting  beside  him. 
All  Hurrishofferonia  was  out,  and  sitting  around  in  a 
great  circle.  The  Kilduf,  the  Seersucker,  the  Welsh 
Rabbit,  the  Muscat,  the  Vamoose,  the  Redingote,  the 
Hoarhound,  the  Moscow,  the  Black  Maria,  the  Cinna- 
monkey,  the  Shampoodle,  the  Puccoon,  the  Ginger- 
snapping-turtle,  the  Terrapincushion,  and  the  Official 
Seal  made  an  impressive  circle. 

When  all  was  in  readiness  Penny-a-Wordsworth 
arose  to  begin  the  poeting  of  the  day  with 

LONG  LIVE  THE  HURRISHOFFER. 

"  Oh,  the  Hurrishoffer  is  here  to-day, 

And  that's  why  our  hearts  are  light, 
For  the  Hurrishoffer  is  blithe  and  gay, 

And  his  jokes  are  always  bright. 
17* 


262  THE    HURKI8HOFFER 

At  any  time  he  can  make  us  laugh, 

For  his  merry  jests  ne'er  fail, 
And  he  makes  us  roar  till  we  break  in  half 

When  he  spins  his  hat  on  his  tail. 

"  Oli,  the  Hurrishoffer  is  good  and  kind — 

He's  a  very  indulgent  King ; 
To  all  our  faults  he  is  simply  blind, 

And  his  praise  we  daily  sing. 
That  he  is  the  King  is  the  greatest  boast 

That  we  make  in  this  pleas-ant  vale, 
But  oh,  we  admire  him  and  love  him  most 

When  he  spins  his  hat  on  his  tail. 

"Oh,  long  may  the  HurrisholTer  reign; 

May  he  live  ten  thousand  years, 
And  spread  his  merriment  o'er  the  plain 

As  a  salve  for  care  and  tears ! 
May  he  glad  the  hearts  of  his  subjects  all, 

Till  his  name  with  joy  they  hail, 
And  may  they  just  laugh  till  they  helpless  fall 

When  he  spins  his  hat  on  his  tail !" 

"This  style,"  said  the  Hurrishoffer,  by  way  of  illus- 
tration. 

Then  he  arose  and  began  spinning  his  white  high 
hat  on  his  tail,  and  waltzing  all  around  the  circle  as  he 
did  it.  He  would  suddenly  toss  the  hat  high  in  the 
air,  and  turn  about  and  catch  it  as  it  descended,  after 
the  manner  of  the  hat-spinning  circus  clown.  All  the 
time  he  kept  roaring  with  laughter,  and  his  subjects 
joined  in  until  all  Hurrishofferonia  shook.  Finally 
the  Hurrishoffer  resumed  his  place,  out  of  breath,  but 
grinning  with  great  glee. 

At  that  moment  a  queer-looking  object  ran  into  the 
circle  dancing.  It  danced  for  something  like  twenty 
minutes,  and  was  then  asked  to  get  out  of  the  way. 


THE    HURRISHOFFER  265 

Tommy  wanted  to  know  why  it  was  not  allowed  to  re- 
main, and  was  told  that  it  was  because  it  could  not  stop 
dancing,  and  that  dancing  became  rather  monotonous 
after  twenty  minutes  of  it. 

"  What  is  it,  anyhow  ?"  asked  Tommy. 

"  It  is  a  thingmajig,"  replied  the  Hurrishoffer. 

The  Thingmajig  danced  out  of  the  circle,  as  request- 
ed, and  down  through  the  porcupinery  towards  the 
Food  Orchard,  the  last  seen  of  it  being  its  feet,  which 
were  beating  the  ground  at  a  great  rate. 

"  Oh,  just  look  at  those  two  animals  flying  across 
the  field  over  there !"  said  Tommy.  "  What  in  the 
world  are  they  ?" 

"  They  are  the  Redingote  and  Vamoose,"  replied 
the  King. 

But  this  was  not  a  sufficient  explanation  for  a  little 
boy  of  Tommy's  age.  He  wanted  to  know  more,  and 
the  Hurrishoffer,  seeing  this,  indulgently  called  upon 
Penny-a- Wordsworth  for  the  recorded  idyl;  and  Pen- 
ny-a- Wordsworth,  feeling  proud  and  happy  at  being 
called  upon  to  repeat  one  of  his  own  performances, 
cheerfully  responded  with 

THE  REDINGOTE  AND  THE  VAMOOSE. 

"  The  Redingote  sat  in  the  hawthorn  spray, 

And  remarked  to  the  old  Vamoose, 
'Your  father  was  naught  but  a  clothes-horse  gray, 

And  your  mother  a  tailor's  goose,' 
When  up  jumped  the  old  Vamoose,  and  smote 
The  pate  of  the  impudent  Redingote. 

"  The  Redingote  took  to  his  heels  and  ran, 

When  he  heard  the  Vamoose's  crows: 
Til  kill  you,  Sir  Redingote,  if  I  can, 
And  full  soon  will  the  lush  shad  roes 


266  THE    HURRISHOFFER 

With  the  baked  verbena  softly  wave 

'Neath  the  cold  white  moon  on  your  nameless  grave.' 

"  The  Redingote  then  became  much  more  fleet, 

All  his  features  with  fear  were  grim, 
He  wanted  no  flowers  snowy  and  sweet 

To  be  blooming  on  top  of  him. 
The  old  Vamoose  got  over  the  ground 
With  the  wondrous  speed  of  the  brown  Hoarhound. 

"  Like  fleet-footed  sawbucks  they  cross  the  bog, 

With  never  a  moment  of  rest, 
And  they  leap  each  stream  like  the  lithe  leap-frog 

Where  the  gutter-snipe  guards  her  nest; 
And  how  long  they'll  run  over  hill  and  dell 
Is  really  more  than  I  now  can  tell." 

"  And  more  than  any  one  else  can,"  observed  the 
Hurrishoffer,  "  for  they  have  already  been  running 
twenty  years.  Perhaps  some  day  the  Vamoose  may 
forget  about  the  insult  offered  his  parents  by  the  im- 
polite Redingote,  and  that  will  end  it." 

The  idea  of  the  Vamoose  ever  forgetting  an  insult 
that  he  had  been  running  twenty  years  to  wipe  out  of 
the  offender  struck  all  Hurrishofferonia  as  being  pretty 
good,  and  they  roared  with  laughter  for  several  minutes. 

"  I  have  a  new  poem,"  said  Penny-a- Wordsworth, 
rather  abruptly. 

"  Let's  have  it,"  cried  the  Hurrishoffer,  in  great  de- 
light. 

As  soon  as  silence  was  restored,  Penny-a- Words- 
worth arose  and  read 

THE  MUSCAT  AND  THE  BLACK  MARIA. 

"There  was  once  an  old  woman  who  owned  a  muscat 

And  its  smile  she  was  happy  to  win. 
Oh,  the  Muscat  was  brindled,  uncanny,  and  fat; 
While  the  woman  was  haggard  and  thin. 


THE    HURRISHOFFER  267 

"  Oh,  the  pair  was  together  at  daytime  and  night, 

And  in  all  weather  both  rainy  and  fair; 
Oft  the  Muscat  would  spring  from  the  floor  and  alight 
On  her  head,  and  she  never  would  care. 

"  Now  one  morning  the  Muscat  fell  deeply  in  love 

With  the  ancient  Maria  that's  black, 
And  the  charmed  Black  Maria,  just  like  a  lone  dove, 
Cooed  most  softly  and  tenderly  back. 

"Then  the  Muscat,  as  happy  as  h.ippy  could  be, 

To  pull  o'er  the  dame's  eyes  the  wool, 
It  went  forth  to  the  meadow-land's  white  clover  sea, 
And  consulted  the  wild  Irish  bull. 

"  Quick  the  bull  replied  briefly  that  love  was  enough, 

And  the  best  thing  to  do,  and  full  soon, 
Was  to  fly  to  the  bald-headed  priest  on  the  bluff, 
'Neath  the  light  of  the  silvery  moon. 

"On  that  night  they  were  duly  and  lawfully  wed, 

And  the  animals  gave  them  a  ball. 
Maria  some  moonflowers  wore  on  her  head ; 
And  the  Muscat  wore  nothing  at  all. 

"When  the  old  woman  heard  it,  deep  stricken  with  woe, 

Soon  collapsed  of  pure  worry  and  fret. 
It's  a  long  time  ago,  but  that  couple,  I  know, 
Is  existing  most  happily  yet." 

"  Of  course  they  are,  because  the}7  are  here  to-day," 
said  the  Hurrishoffer.  "  But  what  comes  next  on  the 
programme  ?" 

"The  grand  cavalcade  of  candy  animals,"  said  the 
Pooh-pooh,  who  then  rent  the  air  with  about  a  hundred 
dismal  pooh-poohs. 

In  response  all  the  candy  animals  came  forth,  and 
ran  about,  and  marched  up  and  down,  executing  some 


268  THE    HURRISHOFFER 

wonderfully  difficult  figures  for  candy  animals.  This 
they  kept  up  for  an  hour,  and  Tommy  thought  he  had 
never  seen  so  much  in  a  museum  or  a  menagerie. 

"  They're  all  here  but  the  Bat,"  said  the  Pooh-pooh. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  the  Bat  ?"  inquired  the 
Ilurrishoffer. 

"  He  has  a  sick-headache,"  replied  the  Pooh-pooh, 
"and  begged  off,  but  sent  his  warmest  regards  and 
congratulations,  did  the  Bat,  who  is  sleeping  up  in 
the  base-ball  tree,  where — " 

The  Pooh-pooh  paused,  and  looked  in  the  direction  of 
the  underground  river.  All  Hurrishofferonia  wondered 
why  he  had  discontinued  his  speaking  so  suddenly. 
His  features  denoted  surprise  that  bordered  on  fear. 

"  Oh,  something  very  queer 

Is  about  to  happen  here, 

Or  I  am  no  kioodle," 

Remarked  the  quaint  Shampoodle. 

"  Oh,  what  do  you  think  ?"  asked  the  Hurrishoffer. 
"Has  any  one  any  advice  to  proffer?" 

"I  believe,"  the  dried  Apple-tartar  said, 
"  That  we'll  get  an  awful  battering 

Before  it  is  time  to  go  to  bed 

If  we  don't  take  to  requiescattering." 

They  all  started  in  different  directions  without  fur- 
ther ado,  but  the  Pooh-pooh  got  them  back  when  hej 
shouted,  "  Here  comes  a  strange  party — all  animals 
like  Tommy." 

They  looked,  and  saw  the  Pooh-pooh  was  right,  and 
Tommy  looked  only  to  see  his  father  and  several  of 
his  friends.  They  were  rejoiced  to  see  each  other,  as 
they  never  expected  to  meet  again.  The  boys  who 


TOMMY   AND   THE    POOH-POOH. 


THE    HURRISHOFFER  271 

had  helped  Tommy  take  his  canoe  to  the  lake  told  his 
father  that  he  had  not  been  seen  by  them  since  he 
entered  the  cave,  and  a  search  was  immediately  com- 
menced. When  his  father  found  running  water  in 
the  cave,  he  had  a  dam  built  outside  its  mouth,  thus 
shutting  off  the  supply.  The  underground  river  was 
soon  empty,  and  they  had  come  through  on  horseback 
a  very  long  distance. 

As  they  departed  homeward  with  Tommy,  the  Hurri- 
shoffer  was  simply  heart-broken,  because  he  thought  a 
great  deal  of  Tommy,  whom  he  regarded  as  a  nice  little 
boy,  and  Tommy  liked  him  in  return  for  his  many 
kindnesses  to  him.  He  thinks  seriously  of  visiting  the 
Hurrishoffer  again  next  summer  with  some  of  his  com- 
panions, who  are  not  inclined  to  believe  in  the  Food 
Orchard  and  the  Candy  Garden. 


OPOPONAX  V« 


[POPONAX  the  First  was  a  very  dignified 
and  austere  King  who  was  never  known 
to  smile.  It  is  only  consistent  with  the 
undying  principles  of  truth  to  say  that 
many  and  various  were  the  attempts  of 
his  subjects  and  ministers  to  throw  him  into  a  laugh, 
for  there  was  a  superstition  among  them  that  if  his 
look  of  melancholy  could  once  be  changed  into  one  of 
merriment,  the  ice  would  be  broken,  and  he  would 
continue  to  laugh,  and  cause  sunshine  and  happiness 
to  go  hand  in  hand  through  the  length  and  breadth  of 
his  great  domain. 

Opoponax  was  greatly  amused  at  these  well-meant 
attempts  for  his  own  happiness  and  that  of  his  sub- 
jects, but  his  amusement  never  manifested  itself  in 
even  the  ghost  of  what  might  be  termed  a  smile. 


276 


OPOPONAX 


"  Should  I  laugh,  it  would  only  be  out  of  compli- 
ment," often  mused  Opoponax,  "and  that  would  not 
be  consistent  with  my  sentiment  of  honesty.  If  my 
face  shall  ever  blossom  with  merriment  it  must  come 
from  the  heart.  Never  shall  I  be  guilty  of  a  dishonest 
laugh !" 

In  his  retinue  he  had  two  jesters  —  on  approval. 
He  had  tried  several  who  had  been  sent  him  with 
flattering  recommendations,  none  of  whom  succeeded 
in  producing  the  desired  effect.  He  pronounced  them 
all  as  stupid  as  so  many  swineherds,  and  notified  each, 
after  a  trial  of  two  days,  that  his  services  would  not 
be  required  after  the  end  of  the  current  moon. 


'/  .'•/.• 

"IN    HIS    HETINCE  HE    HAD    TWO  JESTKRS ON  APPROVAL." 


OPOPONAX  %  277 

The  effect  of  his  severe  but  honest  strictures  upon 
the  performances  of  these  worthy  creatures  was  any- 
thing but  soothing  to  their  professional  pride.  It 
made  them  so  sad  in  appearance  that  they  were  fun- 
nier than  ever  to  those  who  had  anything  like  a  full 
appreciation  of  their  efforts.  One  of  the  trial  jesters 
was  so  mortified  at  his  reception  that  he  became  de- 
spondent, and  while  imagining  that  in  reality  he  was 
not  funny,  left  the  employment  of  the  King  without 
giving  his  royal  master  a  day's  notice,  and  apprenticed 
himself  to  an  undertaker. 

When  a  jester  perpetrated  a  joke  calculated  to  set 
the  table  in  a  roar,  every  one  would  look  at  the  King 
to  note  its  effect  upon  him.  Should  he  attempt  a 
laugh  they  would  all  be  ready  to  roar,  even  if  the  say- 
ing did  not  impress  them  as  being  in  the  least  funny. 
But  as  Opoponax  never  laughed,  his  retinue  never 
roared  ;  but  frequently  some  one  would  titter,  in  a  wild 
endeavor  to  suppress  the  laughter  bubbling  in  his  heart. 

This  would  displease  the  King  very  much,  because 
he  really  envied  every  man  his  capacity  for  the  enjoy- 
ment of  the  ludicrous,  and  felt  that  while  others  were 
amused  by  a  joke  which  he  could  not  see,  it  simply 
placed  him  in  the  unhappy  light  of  a  dull,  boorish 
person. 

"Ah,  what  would  I  not  give  if  I  could  but  appreciate 
the  smallest  witticism  ?"  said  the  King  one  day.  "  To 
see  all  about  me  wild  with  delight,  and  not  be  able 
to  participate  is  what  is  making  my  beard  as  white 
as  snow.  Was  that  thing  just  uttered  about  the  boot- 
maker's niece  wearing  cut-glass  eyes  of  different  colors 
to  match  her  various  dresses  funny  ?" 

"  That  is  the  way  it  struck  us,"  replied  the  Prime- 
minister,  at  his  left. 


278  OPOPONAX    % 

"  It  is  very  strange,"  replied  Opoponax,  wearily, 
"that  I  cannot  see  it  in  the  same  light.  It  strikes 
me  as  being  simply  a  statement  setting  forth  an  absurd 
vanity  on  the  part  of  the  boot-maker's  niece.  But  if  I 
am  wrong  in  my  estimate,  pray  tell  me  why  you  didn't 
langh  ?  You  admit  that  it  was  funny.  Now  if  it  was 
f u nay  and  you  have  a  keen  appreciation  of  fun,  why 
didn't  you  laugh,  my  lords,  why  didn't  you  laugh?" 

"  We  did  not  think  it  would  be  courtesy  to  laugh 
when  you  were  silent.  We  did  not  feel  warranted  in 
manifesting  the  joy  which  you  could  not  feel." 

"  You  are  all  indeed  very  considerate ;  but  you  en- 
joyed the  Tartary  tarts,  which  I  could  not  partake  of 
on  account  of  my  dyspepsia.  I  suppose  if  I  were  to 
be  taken  sick  you  would  all  go  to  bed  if  only  for  the 
sake  of  being  consistent !" 

"  Did  we  understand  you  to  say  you  are  the  victim 
of  that  gnawing  malady,  dyspepsia?"  inquired  the 
Prime-minister,  in  a  tone  of  sympathy,  calculated  to 
improve  the  King's  spirits. 

"  That  is  what  I  said,"  responded  Opoponax,  with  a 
touch  of  feeling ;  "  but  I  am  at  a  loss  to  know  whether 
you  so  understood  me  or  not,  and,  I  must  confess,  I 
don't  care." 

"  It's  the  dyspepsia  !  It's  the  dyspepsia !"  murmured 
the  Prime-minister. 

"  What's  the  dyspepsia?"  demanded  the  King. 

"It's  the  dyspepsia,"  said  the  Prime-minister,  "that 
makes  you  incapable  of  enjoying  a  joke.  Clam  juice 
is  the  thing  that  will  make  the  point  of  a  joke  quite 
clear  to  you  by  first  annihilating  your  dyspepsia." 

"  Perchance  I  should  apologize  humbly  to  the  Jest- 
er—" 

The  table  was  immediately  in  a  roar.     Even  the 


OPOPONAX 


279 


Jester  himself  could  not  refrain  from  laughing,  al- 
though, like  a  good  joker,  he  never  laughed  at  his 
own  sallies. 

"  What  are  you  all  laughing  at  ?"  roared  Opoponax, 
growing  red  in  the  face. 


"'CONSIDER  YOUR   SALARY   REDLTEO  50  PER  CENT.!'  BROKE  IN 
THE  KING,  WITH  GREAT  FEELING." 


"At  your  joke  about  apologizing  to  the  Court 
Jester." 

"  I  did  not  know  it  was  a  joke,"  replied  the  King. 

"That  it  was,"  replied  the  Prime -minister,  in  a 
warm,  complimentary  tone — "  that  it  was,  your  Ma- 
jesty, and  one  that  I  consider — " 

"  Consider  your  salary  reduced  50  per  cent. !"  broke 
in  the  King,  with  great  feeling. 

"  The  King  is  not  a  fool  by  a  long  shot,"  mused 
the  Jester,  "  but  he  is  witty  enough  to  be  a  court  fool." 

"  To  show  you  that  no  joke  was  intended  at  your 
expense,"  said  Opoponax  to  the  Jester,  "  I  wish  to 
humbly  apologize  to  you  for  not  having  enjoyed  and 


280  OPOPONAX  K 

laughed  at  vour  stories  before.  But  in  offering  a  word 
or  two  by  way  of  apology,  what  should  I  say  ?" 

"  You  might  simply  say,"  replied  the  Jester,  "  '  Ha, 
ha!'" 

"  Ha,  ha !"  shouted  Opoponax. 

"I  accept  your  apology,"  said  the  Jester,  bowing 
low,  "  and  if  laughter  be  not  natural  with  you,  it  might 
be  acquired.  I  would  humbly  suggest,  looking  only  to 
your  Majesty's  welfare  and  happiness,  that  when  a 
joke  is  uttered  you  '  Ha,  ha !'  with  all  your  might,  and 
soon  you  will  find  yourself  unconsciously  laughing." 

"What  a  happy  idea,  what  a  happy  idea,"  said  Opo- 
ponax, with  mechanical  glee,  for  his  so-called  gayety 
was  all  assumed,  his  face  being  as  expressionless  as 
that  of  a  cabbage.  "  I  am  going  conscientiously  to 
work  to  follow  your  directions,  that  I  may  acquire  a 
taste  for  fun  as  I  long  ago  acquired  a  taste  for  olives." 

"  Favor  me  with  another  tart,"  said  the  Jester  to 
one  of  the  servants. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  !"  roared  Opoponax. 

But  while  he  roared  and  swayed  to  and  fro,  as  if 
unable  to  control  himself,  it  was  evident  to  all  that 
his  laughter  was  only  attempted  laughter,  with  no  soul 
in  it,  for  his  face  wore  an  expression  of  anxiety,  as  if 
he  wondered  if  he  was  going  to  be  congratulated  upon 
a  successful  effort. 

"What  are  you  laughing  at?"  asked  the  Prime-min- 
ister. 

"  Then  I  laughed,  did  I  ?"  said  the  King,  too  great- 
ly pleased  to  answer  the  question  put  to  him.  "  And 
was  it  a  good,  natural  sort  of  laugh  that  would  pass 
current  anywhere  ?" 

"  It  was  very  good  for  a  beginner,"  replied  the 
Prime-minister,  with  a  diplomatic  smile,  "  but  there 


OPOPONAX    %  281 

was  no  joke  to  be  laughed  at.  The  Jester  simply 
asked  for  a  tart.  Was  that  funny  ?" 

"  Of  course  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  say,"  replied 
Opoponax,  deeply  grieved.  "  When  you  know  that 
you  can  distinguish  a  joke  when  you  hear  one,  and 
that  I  cannot,  you  should  not  come  to  me  for  informa- 
tion on  the  subject.  I  find  that  when  I  cannot  distin- 
guish a  joke,  it  is  worse  than  madness  for  me  to  mas- 
ter the  art  of  laughing,  lest  I  laugh  vvhere  the  laugh 
should  not  come  in,  and  perhaps  destroy  the  spirit  of 
some  beautifully  solemn  occasion." 

"  What  an  unhappy  condition  of  mind !"  observed 
the  Second  Jester.  "  What  a  sad  world  it  would  be  for 
the  professional  clown  if  all  men  were  like  our  good 
Opoponax." 

"  Was  that  funny  ?"  asked  the  King. 

"  It  was  not,"  replied  the  First  Jester. 

"  Then  I  will  not  indulge  even  in  a  practice  '  Ha,  ha! ' 
But  hold,  a  thought  occurs  to  me  !" 

"  What  is  it  ?"  asked  the  First  Jester. 

"  It  is  this :  are  not  the  rest  of  the  company  often 
in  error  when  they  laugh  ?  Do  not  they  sometimes 
laugh  at  a  thing  that  strikes  them  as  being  funny  when 
in  reality  it  is  not  ?" 

"  Possibly  you  are  right,"  responded  the  First  Jest- 
er, with  an  air  of  wounded  professional  pride  ;  "  some 
applaud  stupidity  for  wit,  bombast  for  eloquence,  and 
platitude  for  poetry.  The  average  merit  of  the  fool 
is  about  as  high  as  that  of  the  philosopher,  whose 
most  elaborate  theories  are  generally  combated  suc- 
cessfully by  some  other  philosopher  quite  as  eminent 
as  himself." 

"Then,"  said  Opoponax,  making  an  unsuccessful 
attempt  to  smile, "  it  is  not  as  humiliating  to  remain 


282  OPOPONAX  }4 

silent  at  a  real  joke  as  it  is  to  laugh  immoderately  at 
one  that  may  in  reality  be  no  joke  at  all.  I  think, 
after  all,  my  attitude  is  not  entirely  without  its  merits. 
Can  you  furnish  me  with  a  sample  for  analysis  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  replied  the  First  Jester,  with  a  pleasant 
smile.  "  The  other  day  I  purchased  a  paper,  and  the  first 
thing  that  caught  my  eye  was  '  Sport  in  the  Woods.' 
Under  this  head  followed  a  story  of  how  a  sportsman 
was  eaten  by  a  bear." 

"Where's  the  joke?"  asked  Opoponax  when  the 
last  laugh  had  died  away  behind  the  kitchen  door. 

"  On  the  sportsman,"  replied  the  Jester. 

"  I  cannot  see  the  joke  at  all,"  replied  Opoponax. 
"It  was  simply  a  heart-rending  calamity  that  should  be 
productive  of  tears  and  not  laughter,  especially  if  the 
unfortunate  man  left  a  large  family  and  had  no  insur- 
ance on  his  life.  Now,  I  propose  that  we  put  it  to  a 
vote.  If  it  shall  be  decided  a  joke,  we  will  all  laugh ; 
if  a  calamity,  then  we  will  all  weep." 

The  vote  was  taken,  and  the  First  Jester  carried  the 
day  unanimously. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  ha,  ha,  ha  !"  shouted  Opoponax,  with 
great  emotion.  "  I  laugh  to  show  my  appreciation  of 
your  appreciation  ;  but,  by  the  way,  what  do  you  think 
of  my  laugh  ?" 

"  To  be  frank  with  you,"  replied  the  First  Jester, 
"  it  is  not  what  I  call  a  good  honest  laugh  yet ;  in  fact 
it  is  what  might  be  termed  a  laugh  of  promise.  It  has 
volume,  but  it  lacks  soul ;  but  you  must  be  patient  and 
persevere.  Unfortunately  there  is  no  method  by  which 
laughter  can  be  taught,  yet  at  the  same  time  I  feel 
warranted  in  offering  you  encouragement.  By  energy 
and  persistence  you  may  yet  acquire  a  laugh  that  will 
impress  the  stranger  as  having  been  born  in  you — 


OPOPONAX  %  283 

a  nice,  sweetly-modulated  laugh,  characterized  by  the 
most  delicate  shades  of  coloring.  I  trust  my  honest, 
outspoken  manner  may  not  cost  me  a  reduction  of 
salary." 

"  That  it  shall  not,"  replied  Opoponax.  "  If  all  my 
sage  advertisers — " 

"  Don't  you  mean  advisers  ?"  asked  the  Second 
Jester. 

"  Thank  you  very  much,"  replied  Opoponax.  "  You 
have  hit  upon  my  meaning  exactly.  I  was  simply  go- 
ing to  state  that  if  all  my  sage  advisers  were  as  sage 
as  my  fools  my  nightly  sleep  would  be  sounder  and 
more  refreshing."  Then,  turning  his  gaze  upon  the 
First  Jester,  he  continued, "  I  am  going  to  make  you 
a  more  important  person  in  this  palace.  Hereafter 
you  are  to  be  known  as  my  Preceptor  in  Laughing — 
first,  because  you  understand  the  principles  of  the  comic 
cult ;  and,  second,  because  you  are  not  afraid  to  tell 
the  truth." 

The  First  Jester  bowed  low  in  acknowledgment  of 
so  graceful  a  compliment,  and  the  Prime  -  minister's 
face  wore  an  expression  that  indicated  the  fact  that 
he  had  just  swallowed  a  mouthful  of  hot  soup  the 
wrong  way. 

"  I  shall  be  happy  to  enter  upon  the  sacred  duties 
of  my  new  position  at  once,"  said  the  new  Minister  of 
Laughing,  "  and  will  begin  by  tying  a  string  to  the  left 
foot  of  our  gracious  sovereign,  that  I  may  inform  him 
of  the  perpetration  of  a  joke  by  pulling  upon  the  same. 
Then  he  will  not  undergo  the  humiliation  of  being  rid- 
iculed for  laughing  when  I  simply  ask  for  a  cup  of 
coffee." 

The  King  thought  this  an  excellent  idea,  and  sub- 
mitted to  the  operation  of  having  a  cord  fastened  to 


284  OPOPONAX  % 

the  foot  of  the  lesser  gout  with  becoming  grace  and 
dignity. 

"Don't  laugh  until  I  pull,"  said  the  Minister  of 
Laughing. 

"  'Tis  well,"  replied  the  happy  monarch  ;  "  but  don't 
pull  too  hard." 

"About  like  this,"  suggested  the  First  Jester,  who 
gave  the  cord  a  slight  pull. 

The  King  indulged  in  a  slight  chuckle. 

"  There  was  no  joke,  and  you  should  not  have  chuc- 
kled," said  the  First  Jester.  "  That  pull  was  merely  to 
show  you  the  manner  in  which  a  joke  should  be  made 
known  to  you." 

"  Pardon  me,"  replied  Opoponax,  humbly.  "  I  sup- 
pose a  slight  pull  is  to  mean  that  you  have  perpetrated 
a  delicate  joke  that  should  be  enjoyed  by  a  low  chuckle, 
while  one  that  requires  a  wild  guffaw  shall  be  accom- 
panied by  a  hard,  sudden  jerk." 

"  It  would  doubtless  be  a  very  good  code  to  follow, 
and  I  think  it  would  be  advisable  to  adopt  it.  But  it 
will  be  impossible  to  give  you  the  proper  attention  in 
the  presence  of  all  this  company.  What  I  propose  is 
that  we  go  out  for  a  walk,  that  we  may  philosophize  on 
laughter  and  get  at  its  fundamental  principles.  I  would 
also  take  you  to  the  abode  of  Timothy  Hay,  the  Laugh- 
ing Farmer,  for  an  object-lesson." 

"As  Timothy  Hay  is  the  name  of  a  farm  product," 
replied  the  King,  with  a  sort  of  preoccupied  air,  "  it 
strikes  me  as  being  a  quaintly  happy  cognomen  for  an 
agriculturist.  Upon  first  hearing  it,  I  was  prompted  to 
attempt  a  laugh,  but  as  you  did  not  pull  the  string  I 
refrained.  I  am  now  wholly  in  your  hands,  and,  that 
being  the  case,  I  shall  never  laugh  on  a  slack  string." 

"  You  are  indeed  a  gratifying  pupil,"  said  the  First 


OPOPONAX  %  285 

Jester ;  "  and  if  I  do  not  make  a  laugher  of  you  in  eigh- 
teen or  twenty  easy  lessons  it  will  be  because  you  were 
not  born  with  laughter  in  your  soul.  I  believe  you  are 
as  full  of  latent  laughter  as  a  grocer's  barrel  is  full  of 
effete  eggs,  if  you  will  pardon  so  rude  a  simile.  When 
your  latent  laughter  is  properly  developed  you  will  be 
able  to  go  about  alone  without  a  cord,  and  without  any 
fear  of  suffering  the  poignant  mortification  incident  to 
laughing  at  a  serious  statement." 

Opoponax  attempted  to  smile  in  gratitude,  but  the 
effort  was  without  success.  He  said  : 

"  You  must  never  deceive  me  by  pulling  the  string 
on  a  serious  statement.  You  must  not  remark  that 
you  think  it  looks  like  rain  and  then  tighten  the 
cord,  just  for  the  sake  of  hearing  me  laugh  at  some- 
thing that  is  not  at  all  funny." 

The  First  Jester,  or,  rather,  the  Minister  of  Laughing, 
promised  that  he  would  under  no  consideration  be 
guilty  of  such  an  act  which,  he  said,  would  be  nothing 
short  of  a  misdemeanor.  He  would  be  very  careful 
and  conscientious,  even  to  the  finest  details  of  the  busi- 
ness in  hand,  and  endeavor  to  make  himself  worthy 
of  the  royal  confidence  reposed  in  him.  He  fully 
realized  and  appreciated  the  importance  of  his  com- 
mission, and  would  have  the  Second  Jester  accompany 
them,  for  the  purpose  of  taking  notes  and  making 
kindly  suggestions. 

It  was  suggested  that  they  start  immediately  for  the 
establishment  of  Timothy  Hay,  the  Laughing  Farmer. 
So  without  further  ado  they  filed  out  into  the  hall- 
way of  the  palace,  where  Opoponax  took  his  crown 
and  purple  robe — the  water-proof  which  he  wore  in 
dubious  weather — off  the  hat-stand  peg,  and  donned 
them  for  the  journey. 


286 


OPOPONAX 


"Perchance  I  had  best  take  me  sceptre  along  to 
ward  off  the  chance  canine  on  the  highway." 

The  First  Jester  pulled  the  string  instantly. 

"  Must  I  laugh  at  my  own  utterances  if  you  happen 
to  think  them  funny  ?" 

"You  must!"  replied  the  First  Jester;  "my  object 
is  to  teach  you  to  laugh.  Now  you  will  kindly  laugh 
at  what  you  just  said  about  waving  the  highway  dog 
off  with  your  sceptre." 

To  make  him  realize  that  he  was  in  earnest  the 
First  Jester  pulled  the  string,  and  Opoponax  made  a 
violent  effort  to  laugh,  while  the  Second  Jester  looked 
on  and  took  notes  to  be  preserved  for  future  reference. 


"THE  FIRST  JKSTER  PULLED  THE  STRING,  AND  OPOPONAX  MADE  A 
VIOLENT  EFFORT  TO  LAUGH." 

"What's  that  you  are  writing  about  me?"  asked 
Opoponax. 

"  Nothing  but  memoranda  of  your  case,"  replied  the 
Second  Jester,  "  which  we  intend  to  preserve  for  scien- 
tific purposes.  Laughter  is  one  of  the  wholesomest 
things  in  the  world,  and  we  should  all  know  every- 
thing concerning  it.  '  How  Opoponax  was  Taught  to 


QPOPONAX    }£  287 

Laugh'  may  be  the  title  of  a  volume  resulting  from 
this  pleasant  experience." 

"  Then  it  is  well,"  replied  Opoponax,  "  and  I  do  not 
feel  offended.  When  the  book  shall  appear  it  will 
give  me  great  pleasure  to  put  my  name  down  for  a 
copy.  Oh,  when  I  learn  to  laugh  I  intend  to  even 
matters  with  many  people  who  have  laughed  at  me 
when  they  knew  I  was  powerless  to  laugh  back.  It 
will  also  be  a  happy  day  for  you,  too,  my  good 
jesters." 

"  How  so  ?"  asked  the  Second  Jester. 

"  Because,"  continued  Opoponax,  "  you  can  work 
off  all  your  old  witticisms  on  me.  I  have  listened  to 
your  jokes,  but  have  never  been  able  to  enjoy  them. 
Of  course  that  was  no  fault  of  yours ;  but  when  you 
have  taught  me  to  appreciate  anything  funny,  the  jests 
that  are  ancient  and  so  to  speak  white-whiskered  to 
you  will  be  quite  new  and  fresh  to  me,  and  it  is  quite 
possible  that  you  will  not  be  obliged  to  invent  anything 
in  your  line  for  several  years." 

And  so,  in  the  best  of  spirits,  the  three  walked  to- 
gether in  the  direction  of  the  home  of  Timothy  Hay, 
the  Laughing  Farmer.  The  trees  were  full  of  singing 
birds,  and  the  meadows  were  bathed  in  softest  sun- 
shine, as  the  three  jogged  gayly  along,  Opoponax  walk- 
ing ahead,  the  First  Jester  a  pace  or  two  behind,  hold- 
ing the  string  attached  to  the  King's  foot  of  the 
lesser  gout,  and  the  Second  Jester  still  a  little  farther 
in  the  rear,  with  a  lead-pencil  in  one  hand  and  a  book 
in  the  other,  ready  at  a  moment's  notice  to  jot  down 
anything  that  might  afterwards  be  of  historical  or 
scientific  value. 


II 

"!F  you  will  now  have  the  kindness  to  pull  the 
string,  I  shall  be  happy  to  make  the  attempt  of  my 
life,"  said  Opoponax,  as  they  turned  a  bend  in  the 
road. 

"  I  should  be  but  too  happy  to  comply,"  replied  the 
First  Jester,  "  could  I  but  do  so  conscientiously.  You 
know  I  have  undertaken  not  only  to  teach  you  the 
physical  art  of  laughing,  if  I  may  so  put  it,  but  to 
make  it  clear  to  you  when  to  laugh,  and  the  things  to 
laugh  at.  It  would  therefore  be  unjust  to  you,  and  in- 
consistent with  my  self-respect  as  a  philosopher  and 
a  fool,  to  pull  the  string  without  cause." 

"  But  I  notice  a  picture  yonder  which  strikes  me  as 
being  funny,  yet  I  think  it  cannot  be  in  the  least  ludi- 
crous on  account  of  the  slack  string.  It  represents  a 
man  driving  a  pig.  The  man  and  the  pig  are  con- 
nected, so  to  speak,  by  a  long  cord,  which  stretches 
from  the  hand  of  the  man  to  a  hinder  member  of  the 
pig,  who  is  at  present  filling  the  air  with  an  undulate 
screech  that  loosens  the  jewels  in  my  crown.  Now 
there  is  that  man  teaching  the  pig  to  laugh,  as  I  am 
being  taught,  and  is  the  pig's  laugh  a  success  ?" 

The  face  of  Opoponax  was  as  cold  and  expression- 
less as  a  goat's  eye  until  the  First  Jester  gave  the 
string  a  pretty  hard  jerk. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !     Ha,  ha,  ha—" 


OPOPONAX   %  291 

"  That's  enough !"  replied  the  First  Jester,  "  take  it 
easy ;  no  house  was  ever  builded  within  six  months 
of  the  date  set  by  the  contractor.  When  we  can  swim 
three  strokes  we  can  swim  any  distance  if  we  have  the 
confidence.  You  can  already  laugh  three  syllables 
pretty  well ;  now  you  must  be  perfectly  calm,  and 
you'll  soon  be  able  to  laugh  gracefully.  But  what 
pleases  me  most  is  your  appreciation  of  the  comic 
side  of  the  man  driving  the  pig.  Of  course  you  did 
not  really  appreciate  it,  because  you  had  to  a^k  me 
if  it  was  funny.  But  you  at  least  thought  it  funny, 
and  asked  me  if  I  could  confirm  you  in  that  sus- 
picion, which  is  an  indication  of  progress." 

Then  turning  to  the  Second  Jester  he  told  him  to 
make  a  note  of  the  entire  scene,  with  all  the  details. 
While  doing  so,  the  First  Jester  complimented  the 
King  in  warmest  terms,  and  assured  him  that  he  had 
great  hopes  for  his  ultimate  success.  This  unexpected 
compliment,  which  Opoponax  knew  to  be  a  sincere  one, 
would  have  made  him  smile  if  he  had  been  capable 
of  so  doing.  But  not  being  able  to  smile  he  danced 
for  joy. 

"  You  say  that  this  Timothy  Hay,  the  Laughing 
Farmer,  is  really  a  great  laugher  ?" 

"  Indeed  he  is,"  replied  the  First  Jester.  "  If  his 
turnips  were  as  great  as  his  laughs  they  would  be 
bigger  than  barrels,  and  would  have  to  be  pulled  out 
of  the  earth  by  horse-power." 

"That  is  good  enough  to  pull  the  string  on,"  said 
the  Second  Jester.  "  Give  it  a  pull,  and  don't  keep 
the  poor  King  in  suspense.  Don't  you  notice  the 
worried  expression  of  his  face  ?" 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  the  First  Jester ;  "  I  didn't  make 
that  remark  for  the  sake  of  an  excuse  to  pull  the 


292  OPOPONAX    % 

string.  I  merely  wished  to  impress  upon  the  mind  of 
good  Opoponax  the  laughing  power  of  Timothy  Hay, 
and  the  turnip  simile  was  the  first  one  that  occurred  to 
me.  But,"  continued  the  First  Jester,  looking  at  the 
King,  "  the  laughter  of  Timothy  Hay  is  peculiar.  He 
laughs  at  anything  and  everything.  Tell  him  a  hot 
biscuit  is  not  as  digestible  as  a  cold  one,  and  he  will 
laugh  until  the  tears  roll  down  his  face.  Now,  as 
laughter  is  infectious,  I  want  you  to  catch  it  from  him. 
Notice  how  he  laughs,  and  laugh  with  him,  without 
reference  to  the  string,  and  you  will  catch  the  move- 
ment and  spirit  of  his  merriment,  just  as  you  catch  the 
time  and  air  of  an  operatic  chorus.  You  hear  a  piece 
of  music  that  makes  no  particular  impression  on  you, 
and  three  weeks  later,  while  walking  along  the  street, 
without  knowing  how  or  why,  you  whistle  that  tune 
perfectly.  Now  I  presume  it  is  quite  possible  that, 
after  hearing  Timothy  Hay  laugh  a  few  times,  you 
may,  some  fine  day,  while  signing  the  death-warrant  of 
a  strolling  musician,  unconsciously  burst  forth  into  the 
same  kind  of  a  laugh,  and  be  happy  ever  after." 

"  Ah,  that  I  may  !"  said  Opoponax ;  "  ah,  that  I 
may  !  But  I  trust  I  may  never  know  how  to  laugh 
until  I  am  first  capable  of  distinguishing  those  things 
which  should  be  laughed  at  from  those  things  which 
should  not." 

The  King's  mind  was  greatly  disturbed  by  the  re- 
flection set  forth  in  the  foregoing  paragraph.  In  fact, 
he  already  feared  the  result  of  learning  to  laugh. 
What  could  be  more  painful  than  to  know  how  but  not 
when  to  laugh  ?  Being  at  present  unable  to  laugh, 
no  one  was  ever  offended  at  his  silence,  but,  let  him 
once  learn,  and  he  would  be  expected  to  join  in  on 
the  occasion  of  every  jest.  This,  he  reflected,  would 


OPOPONAX  %  293 

make  him  what  he  termed  the  trial  dog  of  the  king- 
dom. Every  man  with  a  joke  would  try  it  on  him, 
and  his  life  would  become  a  burden.  And,  further, 
he  would  laugh  at  many  utterances  absolutely  bar- 
ren of  merit,  and  his  royal  indorsement  would  give 
currency  to  many  an  alleged  bon  mot,  and  fill  the  coun- 
try with  feeble  jests. 

These  and  other  equally  depressing  thoughts  filled 
the  mind  of  Opoponax  as  the  three  hobbled  along  the 
road.  The  Second  Jester  was  the  first  to  break  the 
silence. 

"Yonder  is  the  homestead  of  Timothy  Hay,  the 
Laughing  Farmer." 

Opoponax  looked  in  the  direction  in  which  the  Sec- 
ond Jester  pointed,  and  saw  a  small,  weather-beaten 
hovel  standing  alone  upon  a  hill,  under  a  spreading 
tree. 

"  How  sad,"  mused  the  King.  "  Do  you  suppose 
it  looks  doleful  by  way  of  contrast  to  the  demeanor  of 
the  Laughing  Farmer  ?" 

"  Very  likely  it  does,"  replied  the  First  Jester,  wish- 
ing to  please  the  King. 

"I  trust  so,"  observed  the  King;  "for  then  must 
the  farmer  be  merry." 

Here  they  entered  the  gate-way  and  ascended  the 
hill,  but  no  sooner  had  they  gone  half  the  distance 
than  they  met  a  cow  that,  while  munching  clover,  ap- 
peared to  be  laughing.  Before  the  King  could  express 
his  great  surprise  at  such  a  curious  sight,  the  Second 
Jester  observed,  "It  is  possibly  the  result  of  living 
with  this  farmer,  who,  probably,  from  motives  of  econ- 
omy, allows  his  herds  to  fatten  on  laughter,  or,  rather, 
to  laugh  and  grow  fat." 

Bang  !    went  the  string,  and  the  King  attempted  a 


294 


OPOPONAX 


TIMOTHY  HAT'S  cow. 


laugh  that  caused  the  cow  to  look  up  in  startled  sur 
prise,  while  tears  formed  in  her  eyes.  It  made  the 
King  sad  at  heart  to  be  regarded  in  this  way  by  a  cow, 
and  he,  no  doubt,  would  have  wept,  had  he  not  just  at 

that  moment  heard  a 
peal  of  laughter  float- 
ing over  the  hill,  and 
directly  after  Timothy 
Hay  appeared,  shaking 
with  merriment. 

"  He  is  probably 
laughing  at  nothing  at 
all,  and  is  doubtless 
unconscious  of  the 
very  fact  that  he  is 
laughing." 

"If  he  can  laugh  that  way  at  nothing,  how  must  he 
langh  at  a  good  joke  ?"  asked  the  King. 

"  We  haven't  time  to  discuss  that,"  said  the  First 
Jester;  "just  you  watch  him,  and  try  to  join  in." 

The  King  tried  in  vain.  In  fact,  his  solemn  de- 
meanor frightened  Timothy  Hay,  who  fancied  his  King 
had  come  to  do  him  evil. 

"  I  have  not  put  water  in  the  milk,  or  been  guilty  of 
a  dishonest  action  in  disposing  of  my  produce,"  began 
the  Laughing  Farmer,  wishing  to  set  the  King's  mind 
at  rest  before  he  could  accuse  him  of  anything. 

"  Is  that  a  joke  ?"  asked  the  King  of  the  First  Jester. 

"  Oh  my,  no,"  replied  the  Laughing  Farmer,  in  an 

agitated  tone.    "  It  is  no  joke  ;  it  is  the  honest  truth." 

"  Must  I  laugh  ?"  asked  the  King. 

Here  the  Laughing  Farmer  suddenly  lost  control  of 

himself,  and  laughed  so  hard  and  well  that  the  King 

tried  to  join  in,  but  suddenly  checked  himself  with  the 


OPOPONAX 


295 


remark  that  he  was  not  so  vain  and  conceited  as  to 
fancy  himself  warranted  in  laughing  in  the  presence 
of  such  an  artist. 

"  Indeed,  my  good  fellow,  I  never  heard  such  a 
laugh  as  yours  before,"  said  the  King,  pleasantly. 

"  And  I  must  say  I  never  heard  one  like  yours  be- 
fore," replied  the  Laughing  Farmer,  feeling  happy 
through  and  through  upon  realizing  that  the  King  was 
not  making  him  a  hostile  visit.  "Are  you  out  of 
tune  ?" 

The  First  Jester  gave  the  string  a  jerk,  and  the  King 
made  a  violent  attempt  to  obey.  But  it  seemed  to 
freeze  the  heart  of  the  Laughing  Farmer. 

"Oh,  suppose  I  should  ever  be  able  to  laugh  like 
that !"  said  the  King.  "  Were  you  born  so,  or  is  it  an 
after-effect  of  typhoid  fever  ?" 

The  string  was  pulled  again,  and  again  the  King 
tried  to  laugh,  but  with  no  better  results  than  before. 

"  Would  you  mind  telling  me  the  meaning  of  that 
string  ?"  asked  the  Laughing  Farmer.  "  Is  the  King 
near-sighted  that  he  should  be  led  in  this  way  ?" 


"  HERE  THK  LAUGHING  FARMER  SUDDENLY  LOST  CONTROL  OF  HIM- 
SELF, AND  LAUGHED  SO  HARD  AND  WELL  THAT  THE  KING  TRIED 
TO  JOIN  IN." 


296  OPOPONAX  % 

The  reply  was  a  jerk  on  the  cord  and  another  at- 
tempt upon  the  part  of  the  King  to  laugh  heartily. 

"  I'm  pretty  well  informed  in  the  ways  of  men  that 
work  by  the  day,"  said  the  Laughing  Farmer,  in  disgust, 
"  but  I  don't  know  much  about  kings  and  their  ways, 
which  leads  me  to  fancy  that  the  work  of  a  court  jester 
must  be  a  thankless  task.  I  should  think  such  a  laugh 
as  that  would  be  a  scorching  commentary  on  the  jest." 

"  You  use  very  good  language  for  a  simple  agricult- 
urist," said  the  King.  "  Will  you  tell  me  how  you 
acquired  it?" 

"From  reading  the  circus  posters  on  the  highway 
fences,"  replied  the  Laughing  Farmer.  "  For  beautiful 
imagery,  flowery  simile,  and  silver  phrase,  if  I  may  so 
put  it,  there  is  nothing  that  compares  favorably  with 
the  circus  poster,  which,  in  spite  of  the  vulgar  illustra- 
tions, is  an  irregular  poem — a  limpid,  purling  runnel 
of  sweetest  song." 

"  Hereafter,"  said  the  King,  "  I  shall  be  a  patron  of 
the  circus,  and  shall  abandon  my  habit  of  collecting 
postage-stamps  and  coins  to  become  a  collector  of  cir- 
cus posters.  On  my  return  I  shall  cause  this  adver- 
tisement to  be  printed :  '  Will  exchange  a  rare  and 
valuable  collection  of  coins  and  postage -stamps  for 
circus  posters.  For  particulars  address,  Opoponax, 
Axminster  Palace.'  It  will  be  an  intellectual  amuse- 
ment, and  will  doubtless  make  me  a  silver-tongued 
orator." 

"  Stranger  things  than  that  have  happened,"  said  the 
Laughing  Farmer,  "and  I  don't  see  why  one  cannot 
glean  wisdom  from  the  circus  poster.  We  are  taught 
by  the  busy  bee — " 

"  What  are  we  taught  by  the  busy  bee  ?"  asked  the 
King. 


OPOPONAX  3^  297 

"  Not  to  take  hold  of  him  by  the  hinder  extremity." 

In  response  to  the  cord  Opoponax  made  a  des- 
perate attempt  to  laugh,  which  resulted  in  tears  pour- 
ing down  his  face. 

"He  is  not  weeping,"  the  First  Jester  explained;  "it 
is  only  his  way  of  laughing." 

"  But  I  notice  that  you  never  laugh." 

"On  the  principle  that  the  undertaker  never  weeps, 
I  never  laugh,"  replied  the  First  Jester.  "  Being  a 
Minister  of  Laughing,  it  would  be  inconsistent  with  my 
professional  dignity  to  even  smile.  If  you  knew  how 
candy  is  made  you  would  never  eat  it.  If  you  knew 
how  jokes  are  made  then  would  you  never  laugh." 

"  I  never  thought  of  that  before,"  said  the  Laughing 
Farmer ;  "  but  as  sure  as  my  name  is  Timothy  Hay  it 
is  sound  philosophy,  for  I  can  say  that  although  I  raise 
spring  chickens  I  never  eat  them." 

"You  don't?" 

"  No  ;  I  barter  them  for  gold,  and  live  on  beef." 

"But  if  you  don't  live  on  the  chickens  you  raise, 
your  argument  is  a  little  shaky,  as  you  must  live  on 
the  beef  you  raise,"  observed  the  Second  Jester. 

"But  I  don't  raise  my  beef.  I  buy  it  with  the 
money  realized  from  the  spring  chickens.  You  see 
the  price  of  one  pound  of  spring  chicken  yields  two 
pounds  of  beef.  But,  prithee,  let  us  abandon  this 
commercial  talk." 

"  If  you  will  tell  us  how  you  learned  to  laugh  in 
such  a  spontaneous,  soulful  way  we  will  agree  to  dis- 
miss the  subject  of  business.  Now,  what  do  you  laugh 
at  when  you  appear  to  be  laughing  at  nothing  at  all  ?" 
asked  the  King. 

"At  humanity,"  replied  the  Laughing  Farmer.  "I 
was  sent  in  early  life  to  a  great  city  to  learn  a  business, 


298  OPOPONAX  K 

and  it  was  there  that  I  first  laughed  on  observing  the 
amusing  vanities  of  man.  And  as  the  vanities  con- 
tinued, so  did  the  laugh.  It  is  not  a  sinister,  unchari- 
table laugh,  for  I  am  very  fond  of  my  fellow-man  in 
whatever  station  I  find  him.  I  imagine  that  your  in- 
ability to  laugh  is  owing  to  the  fact  that  you  know 
little  of  the  world  and  your  kind.  But  if  you  will 
come  up  to  the  house  I  will  show  you  some  circus 
posters." 

The  King  was  delighted  beyond  measure  at  this 
kind  invitation,  as  were  the  First  and  Second  Jesters, 
and  the  party  immediately  started  in  the  direction  of 
the  house,  in  the  happy  anticipation  of  a  rare  treat. 
They  seated  themselves  around  a  long  table,  upon 
which  the  Laughing  Farmer  placed  a  great  pile  of 
circus  posters  of  every  color  and  description.  The 
King  regarded  them  with  great  joy,  and  when  the 
others  returned  from  the  well  whither  they  had  gone 
for  a  drink,  they  found  the  King  lying  on  his  chest 
on  the  floor,  with  his  chin  resting  on  his  hands,  re- 
garding the  blue  and  yellow  posters  with  childish 
delight.  He  didn't  notice  the  reappearance  of  the 
others,  and  they  remained  silent  in  the  enjoyment  of 
the  novel  scene.  "  This  is  a  clown  trying  to  ride  a 
trick  mule,"  he  soliloquized ;  "  but  I  dare  not  attempt 
hilarity  independently  of  the  string.  What  beautiful 
language  !  The  average  prime-minister  has  not  such 
a  vocabulary  !  And  what  entrancing  animals  !  Why, 
it  is  a  liberal  education  to  study  the  circus  poster !" 

Just  at  this  time  the  King  began  to  drum  on  the 
carpet  with  his  toes,  and  to  kick  his  feet  in  the  air. 
The  small  boy  of  the  house,  never  having  seen  a  King 
before,  didn't  know  exactly  what  to  make  of  him  ;  so 
when  he  entered  at  the  back  door,  and  saw  the  cord, 


OPOPONAX    %  299 

he  thought  the  other  end  of  it  should  be  made  fast  to 
something  to  prevent  its  subject  from  wandering  away. 
With  this  idea  uppermost  in  his  mind,  he  noiselessly 
tied  the  cord  to  the  knob  of  the  open  door  and  went 
out.  He  had  not  been  gone  more  than  a  minute  or 
so  when  the  wind  blew  the  door  shut,  which  tightened 
the  cord,  and  the  King  again  tried  to  laugh. 

"  There  was  no  joke,"  said  the  First  Jester,  coming 
in  ;  "it  was  only  an  accident." 

This  amused  the  King  very  much,  and  the  Laughing 
Farmer  was  so  pleased  at  the  way  in  which  so  powerful 
a  monarch  regarded  it  that  he  said  he  would  unfold 
a  secret.  The  secret  was  to  the  effect  that  during  the 
winter  a  circus  made  his  farm  its  quarters.  Out  in 
the  barn  they  had  a  practice  ring,  in  which  youthful 
aspirants  were  taught  to  ride  and  tumble,  and  where 
all  the  mysteries  of  the  profession  were  laid  bare  to 
the  observer.  Opoponax  wanted  to  know  if  he  could 
drop  over  during  the  season  of  snow,  to  make  a  study 
of  it.  He  said  it  would  afford  him  keen  pleasure,  and 
he  would  be  willing  to  pay  liberally  for  the  privilege. 
The  Laughing  Farmer  said  he  would  consider  the 
matter  in  all  its  bearings,  and  that  if  he  should  con- 
sent it  would  be  on  condition  that  the  King  take 
part. 

"  I  will  hold  balloons  and  spread  the  carpet  in  the 
ring  if  necessary,"  said  the  King.  "If  you  don't  be- 
lieve me  let  us  now  go  out,  and  I  will  show  you  how 
I  can  rake  a  ring." 

They  took  him  at  his  word,  and  out  they  went  to 
the  ring,  where  the  King  raked  away  like  a  good 
fellow.  After  he  had  raked  the  ring,  he  said  he 
would  like  to  ride  around  a  few  times  and  study  a 
poster. 


•300 


OPOPONAX 


Accordingly  a  horse  was  brought,  and  the  King 
rode  around  waving  an  orange  -  colored  poster,  and 
seemed  as  happy  as  a  small  boy  with  a  new  drum. 

"Opoponax  is  really  a  very  good  King,"  laughed 
the  Farmer,  as  he  watched  him  flying  around  the  circle, 

his  robe  flying  be- 
hind him  in  the  air, 
and  his  crown  bob- 
bing up  and  down 
in  response  to  the 
motion  of  the 
horse. 

"  A  good  King," 
said  the  First  Jest- 
er. "I  think  that 
is  too  mild  a  way 
of  putting  it.  He 
is  a  most  excellent 
person.  He  doesn't 
laugh  at  our  jokes, 
to  be  sure ;  but  then 
he  doesn't  ask  us 
to  explain  them." 

The    horse    had 
now  stopped,  and  the  King  hopped  down. 

"  I  will  show  you  a  neat  trick,"  said  the  Laughing 
Farmer.  So  he  embraced  the  King,  and  away  they 
whirled  around  the  ring  like  a  wheel  until  you  couldn't 
tell  where  the  King  began  or  the  Laughing  Farmer 
ended. 

The  jesters  were  stunned  at  the  presumption  of  the 
Laughing  Farmer,  and  said  together : 
"  He  will  surely  lose  his  head  !" 
And  sure  enough  he  did,  because  when  they  stood 


THE   KING   RODK    AROUND,   WAVING    AN 
ORANGE-COLORED   POSTER." 


OPOPONAX   %  303 

up  the  Farmer's  head  was  on  the  King's  shoulders, 
and  the  King's  was  on  the  Farmer's. 

"  I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing  as  this,"  said  the 
King's  Head.  "  Here  I  have  the  body  and  legs  of  a 
Farmer,  with  which  I  can  never  appear  in  court." 

"  As  you  are  so  sensitive,"  replied  the  Farmer's 
Head,  laughing,  "you  had  better  stay  on  the  farm,  and 
I  will  run  the  kingdom  with  your  legs.  It  will  be  a 
great  change  for  both  of  us.  In  saying  this  I  want 
to  be  understood  as  deeply  regretting  the  change  that 
has  just  occurred." 

"  Sir,"  said  the  King's  Head,  severely,  "  I  an  Opo- 
ponax  the  First !" 

"  Pardon  me,"  replied  the  Farmer's  Head,  "  you  are 
now  only  Opoponax  the  Half.  I  am  the  other  half. 
I  think  that  as  a  king  you  are  now,  so  to  speak,  null 
and  void.  You  are  better  fitted  for  farming  than  I 
am,  because  you  have  my  muscular  body,  with  which 
you  could  not  command  any  respect  as  a  king.  If 
I  haven't  your  knowledge  in  my  agricultural  head,  I 
can  depend  on  a  prime-minister  for  guidance.  And 
in  the  winter  you  can  have  a  grand  time  with  the  cir- 
cus people.  All  I  want  is  my  jack-knife." 

Here  the  Farmer's  Head  took  the  knife  from  the  vest 
of  the  other,  and  went  away  laughing  with  the  jesters. 

"  It  is  all  right,"  said  the  King's  Head.  "  I  will  re- 
main on  the  farm,  and  allow  you  to  have  the  throne ; 
I  trust  you  may  be  very  happy  on  it,  and  live  a  long 
and  prosperous  life." 

"  I  thank  you,"  said  the  Farmer's  Head,  "  but  wish 
to  impress  upon  you  the  fact  that  this  peculiar  change 
is  quite  as  unpleasant  to  me  as  to  you,  and  I  would 
give  anything  to  have  you  your  old  self  again.  Re- 
move the  cord,  Sir  Jester." 


304  OPOPONAX  K 

While  he  was  untying  the  cord  the  Farmer's  Head 
said, 

"  What  is  that  peculiar  pain  in  this  left  foot  ?" 

"  It  is  the  gout,"  replied  the  King's  Head,  "  and 
you  must  take  good  care  of  the  body  on  account  of 
the  rheumatism.  Is  there  anything  defective  about 
your — or  rather  this — my — body?" 

"  Nothing,"  replied  the  Farmer's  Head,  "  that  I 
know  of.  Those  legs  will  carry  you  fifty  miles  a 
day,  and  you  have  what  I  have  not." 

"  What,  pray  ?" 

"A  pair  of  hands,"  replied  the  Farmer's  Head, 
"that  will  always  make  you  a  living.  It  is  now  time 
to  milk  the  cows  and  bed  the  horses  for  the  night. 
Adieu  !" 

"Adieu,"  replied  the  King's  Head,  trying  in  vain 
to  laugh,  "  and  may  you  be  such  a  great  and  good 
king  that  your  name  shall  become  dear  to  all  the 
people,  and  may  your  fame  lead  the  appreciative  to 
name  many  race-horses  and  standing  collars  after  you." 

And  the  King's  Head  went  to  milk  the  cows,  while 
the  Farmer's  Head  departed  with  the  jesters  in  the 
direction  of  Axminster  Palace. 


Ill 

"PROBABLY  these  hands  can  milk  cows  and  bed 
horses,"  observed  the  King's  Head;  "but  I  cannot 
imagine  how  the  thing  is  done,  because  such  knowl- 
edge never  lodged  in  this  cranium — " 

"  Mercy  sakes !"  broke  in  Timothy  Hay's  old  mother; 
"  what  has  happened  to  you  ?  I  recognize  you  as 
Timothy  Hay  by  your  clothing,  but  how  came  you  by 
that  head,  and  what  kind  of  an  airy  summer  hat  is 
that  you  have  on  ?" 

"  By  a  process  which  I  cannot  explain,"  replied  the 
King's  Head,  "  I  became  so  mixed  up  with  Timothy 
Hay  while  rolling  around  the  circus  ring  that  when 
we  arose  I  found  his  head  on  my  body  and  mine  on 
his.  He  has  gone  away  to  rule  the  country,  while  I 
remain  here  to  conduct  the  farm.  The  airy  hat  you 
speak  of  is  a  crown.  How  long  does  it  take  to  milk 
a  cow  ?" 

"  It  depends  upon  how  much  milk  the  cow  gives 
and  how  fast  you  work." 

"  If  I  but  had  a  prime-minister  or  an  ordinary  duke 
I  should  feel  all  right—" 

Here  he  was  disturbed  by  a  horse  that  rubbed 
against  him. 

"  What,  ho  there,  vile  caitiff !"  exclaimed  the  King's 
Head. 

"You  have  no  doubt  been  enjoying  an  easy  life," 
20 


"  '  MERCY    SAKES  !'    BROKE    IS   TIMOTHY    HAY'S    OLD    MOTHER  ;    '  WHAT 
HAS   HAPPENED   TO    YOU  ?'  " 

said  Timothy  Hay's  old  mother,  "and  it  will  do  you 
good  to  have  a  taste  of  work,  while  poor  Timothy, 
who  has  worked  all  his  life,  will  now  have  a  happy 
existence." 

"  If  you  think  the  King  has  a  happy  existence,  all 
right.  For  my  part  I  am  not  particularly  sorry  of 
the  change.  I  am  now  Opoponax  the  Half,  your 
son  Timothy  being  the  other  50  per  cent,  of  the 
monarch." 

"  Well,  well !  this  is  the  queerest  thing  I  ever  heard 
of:  one  man  going  around  with  another  man's  head 
on.  Now  you're  a  farmer  with  a  royal  understanding, 
while  Timothy  is  a  king  with  an  agricultural  mind. 
It  all  seems  like  a  dream  to  me.  Come,  and  I  will 
show  you  how  to  milk." 

The  King's  Head  followed  her  to  the  stable,  and 


OPOPONAX    %  307 

she  initiated  him  into  the  mysteries  of  milking.  It 
was  very  amusing  to  see  the  King  milk,  after  he  had 
first  hung  his  crown  on  the  cow's  horn.  When  the 
pail  was  full  he  carried  it  into  the  house  and  sat 
down. 

"Did  you  milk  the  others?"  asked  Timothy  Hay's 
old  mother. 

"  Why  should  I  ?"  asked  the  King's  Head.  "  Haven't 
we  abundance  here  for  all  our  wants?  How  much 
can  we  drink,  anyway  ?" 

"  It  isn't  what  we  can  drink.  But  how  about  the 
butter?  That  is  the  question." 

"  Well,  what  about  the  butter  ?" 

"  How  are  we  going  to  get  butter  if  you  don't  milk 
all  the  cows  ?" 

"  Exchange  chickens  for  it,  if  you  must  have  it," 
said  the  King's  Head. 

"  But  we  trade  our  chickens  for  coffee." 

"  Coffee  is  an  abomination,"  said  the  King's  Head ; 
"it  produces  nervousness  and  insomnia,  and  should 
have  no  place  on  any  Christian  table.  Exchange  the 
chickens  for  butter  and  go  without  coffee,  or  else  en- 
gage a  minister  of  milking.  Now  if  you  will  show  me 
the  ladder,  I  will  carry  the  chickens  up  and  set  them 
on  the  sycamore  limb  for  the  night." 

"  You  certainly  don't  know  much  about  farming," 
laughed  the  old  mother  of  Timothy  Hay. 

"  How  can  I  know  it  with  my  body  ?"  asked  the 
King's  Head. 

"  Not  very  well.  But  do  you  know  when  potatoes 
are  dropped  ?" 

"  When  they  are  too  hot  to  hold,  I  should  say." 

"  How  do  you  dry  apples  ?"  laughed  Mrs.  Hay. 

"  With  a  towel,  I  suppose." 


308 


OPOPONAX 


Mrs.  Hay  then  laughed  long  and  loud;  but  the 
King's  Head  could  not  join  in.  He  had  made  up  his 
mind  to  do  the  best  he  could,  and  if  everything  should 
go  wrong  to  secure  a  man  who  would  work  the  place 
on  shares,  and  allow  him  to  walk  around  and  learn  by 
looking  on ;  or  he  would  sit  in  an  easy-chair,  and  thus 
have  the  benefit  of  inspiration  while  observing  his 
colleague  in  the  act  of  unfolding  the  recondite  mys- 
teries of  agriculture. 

"  But,"  said  Mrs.  Hay,  "  the  man  who  works  the 
place  on  shares  will  rob  you  of  at  least  half  the 
profits." 

"  Tis  true,"  observed  the  King's  Head,  "  but  if  I 
run  it  myself  we  shall  lose  all.  I  would  rather  Ian- 


'IT    WAS    VERY    AMUSING    TO     SEE     THE    KING    MILK,   AFTER    HE    HAD 
FIRST    HUNG    HIS    CROWN    ON    THE    COW'S    HORN." 


guish  in  studious  idleness  for  a  50  per  cent,  interest 
than  work  like  a  slave  for  nothing.  You  must  look 
at  it  in  a  sensible,  matter-of-fact  way.  I  might  kill  a 


OPOPONAX    %  309 

cow  by  not  giving  her  a  sufficient  number  of  homoeo- 
pathic pills  in  the  starry  midnight.  How  am  I  to 
know  all  these  things  at  once  ?  I  wonder  what  makes 
my  left  shin  feel  so  queer  ?" 

"  Timothy  broke  it  last  summer,  and  a  sympathetic 
twinge  occasionally  thrills  it." 

"  What  is  this  ?"  asked  the  King's  Head.  He  then 
drew  forth  a  black  object  from  one  of  the  pockets, 
and  unwound  about  two  yards  of  cord  from  it,  when 
out  dropped  a  lot  of  hayseed  and  some  money. 

"That's  what  he  got  for  the  brindled  calf  this 
morning,"  said  Mrs.  Hay,  as  she  eyed  the  wallet. 
"  Now  it's  time  to  split  wood  for  the  morning." 

"  All  right,"  replied  the  King's  Head ;  "  give  me  the 
saw." 

"  You  don't  split  wood  with  a  saw,  and  you  know 
you  must  be  down  at  five  in  the  morning  to  start  the 
fire." 

"  Is  that  the  regular  programme  ?"  asked  the  King's 
Head. 

"  That's  about  it." 

"  Then  there  is  no  money  in  farming,  and  no  pleas- 
ure, either.  I  think  it  would  be  a  good  idea  to  sell 
out  and  start  a  baker-shop.  I  have  an  intelligent  busi- 
ness head,  combined  with  a  body  that  can  lift  a  hun- 
dred-weight. I  could  carry  the  barrels  of  flour  and 
keep  the  books,  and  you  could  superintend  the  baking. 
Then  should  I  be  as  happy  as  the  half  king  I  am." 

But  Mrs.  Hay  would  not  listen  to  this.  She  had 
spent  all  her  life  on  a  farm,  and  did  not  care  to  make 
such  a  change  in  her  old  age.  She  said  she  would 
always  be  a  loving,  kind  mother  to  him,  and  do  all  in 
her  power  to  make  his  lot  a  happy  one.  She  insisted 
on  calling  him  Timo,  which,  she  said,  was  half  of 


310  OPOPONAX  K 

Timothy  as  near  as  she  could  make  it;  and  so  the 
poor  King's  Head  had  to  make  the  best  of  it. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  the  farm  ceased 
to  be  a  paying  institution.  Timo  never  arose  before 
nine  in  the  morning.  Even  when  his  agricultural  half 
was  restless  for  the  bucolic  fray,  his  head  was  as 
sleepy  as  when  he  retired.  He  also  demanded  his 
breakfast  in  bed,  and  mortgaged  the  place  that  he 
might  have  chocolate  and  guava  jelly.  When  the  cow 
broke  into  the  turnip  field,  he  argued  that  she  would 
only  eat  the  green  tops,  or  the  foliage,  as  he  expressed 
it,  and  thus  save  the  ordinary  labor  of  removing  them 
with  a  knife.  He  would  not  hoe  the  potatoes  for  fear 
of  cutting  or  smothering  them.  One  day  his  disgust 
was  completed  when  he  had  the  rare  misfortune  to 
lose  the  end  of  one  of  his  fingers  in  a  hay-cutter.  It 
was  then  that  he  denounced  farming  in  the  roundest 
terms,  and  wished  to  be  a  king  once  more. 

"  Would  you  not  like  to  look  upon  the  face  of  your 
son  once  more  ?"  he  asked.  ^ , 

"  Yes,  indeed,  Timo ;  yes,  indeed  !"  replied  Mrs. 
Hay. 

"  Then  we  will  abandon  the  farm  and  start  for  Ax- 
minster  Palace.  If  Opoponax  the  Half  will  not  listen 
to  our  tale  of  woe,  my  face  and  crawn  should  still  be 
of  signal  service  to  us." 

"  Just  wait  until  I  fix  up  a  basketful  of  gingerbread 
and  cookies  to  preserve  us  on  the  way." 

She  accordingly  filled  a  basket  with  all  the  good 
things  she  could  find,  including  a  dried-apple  pie  and 
a  bottle  of  cold  tea,  and,  taking  Timo  by  the  hand, 
they  started  together  in  the  direction  of  Axminster 
Palace. 


OPOPONAX    %  311 

When  the  Farmer's  Head,  or  Opoponax  the  Half, 
started  for  the  throne  with  the  First  and  Second  Jest- 
ers he  was  the  happiest  man  in  the  land.  He  was 
quite  as  glad  to  be  away  from  the  farm  as  Timo  was 
to  be  away  from  the  Palace  with  all  his  cares.  He 
laughed  so  hard  at  everything  the  jesters  said  that 
these  worthies  felt  they  had  sinecures,  providing  the 
laughter  was  not  ironical. 

"What  time  do  we  get  up  at  the  Palace?"  he 
asked. 

"Any  time,"  replied  the  jesters;  "and  not  at  all  if 
you  don't  wish  to." 

"  And  can  I  have  pie  and  cake  at  every  meal  ?" 

"  Yes,  and  all  you  want  of  it." 

"  And  go  to  all  the  circuses  without  paying  ?" 

"Certainly  you  can.  You  can  have  a  private  circus 
if  you  want  it." 

Here  he  swayed  to  and  fro  with  laughter,  which 
was  his  only  way  of  showing  his  appreciation  of  any- 
thing— funny  or  sad. 

"  I  am  not  accustomed  to  walking  on  such  delicate 
legs  as  these,"  said  Opoponax  the  Half.  "  I  fear  they 
must  have  tired  themselves  on  the  way  to  the  farm. 
Did  they  walk  very  fast  ?" 

"  Not  very,"  replied  the  Second  Jester. 

"  Then  we  must  rest  if  we  would  reach  the  Palace 
to-night." 

"  I  think  it  a  very  sensible  suggestion,"  said  the 
.  .First  Jester.     "  What  say  you  if  we  drop  in  on  Nim- 
'bleshanks  the  Giant  ?     He  lives  in  yonder  cave." 
j      "  By  all  means,  let  us  do  it.     I  am  extremely  fond 
vof  giants,  if  they  are  all  like  the  one  belonging  to  the 
circus  that  I  used  to  care  for  during  the  winter." 
;      So  over  they  went  to  the  cave,  where  they  found 


312  OPOPONAX  % 

Nimbleshanks  sitting  on  a  cushion  with  his  legs 
crossed,  and  smiling  a  smile  of  supreme  content. 

"Good -morning,"  said  Nimbleshanks,  rising  and 
elongating  like  a  telescope  ;  "  have  you  any  cigar-boxes 
with  you  ?" 

"  We  don't  smoke,"  replied  the  First  Jester.  "  But 
what  would  you  with  a  cigar-box — make  a  little  bird 
house  ?" 

"  Not  exactly,"  replied  Nimbleshanks ;  "  I  am  now 
working  away  with  my  jig-saw,  making  curious  castles 
and  churches  out  of  very  thin  wood,  and  I  am  a  little 
short  on  cedar  for  the  trimmings  of  this  bracket." 

"Very  sorry,  Mr.  Nimbleshanks,"  said  Opoponax 
the  Half  ;  "  but  what  do  you  do  with  these  pretty 
things  ?" 

"  I  am  making  these  for  a  fair,"  he  replied.  "  The 
One  and  a  Half  Hospital  is  now  in  financial  straits, 
and  I  am  using  all  my  skill  in  its  interest." 

"  What  is  the  One  and  a  Half  Hospital,  anyhow  ?" 
asked  the  First  Jester. 

"It  is  a  hospital,"  replied  Nimbleshanks,  "where 
whole  orphans  and  half-orphans  are  cared  for." 

While  Nimbleshanks  sawed  away  in  the  deftest 
manner,  Opoponax  the  Half  said  : 

"  You  are  indeed  a  very  nice  giant,  and  I  wish  you 
would  come  home  with  me  to  the  Palace.  I  have  al- 
ways had  an  exceeding  fondness  for  giants,  and  I  have 
about  made  up  my  mind  to  stop  collecting  circus  post- 
ers, and  turn  my  attention  to  collecting  giants.  Would 
you  have^  any  objections  to  being  No.  1  ?" 

"  I  should  be  only  too  happy,"  replied  Nimbleshanks, 
"to  accompany  you.  Will  you  kindly  sit  there  and 
rest  while  I  finish  this  bracket  ?" 

They  did  as  requested,  and  Nimbleshanks  worked 


OPOPONAX    %  313 

away  with  a  will.  When  he  had  finished  he  called  in 
a  swineherd  from  an  adjoining  field,  and  sent  him 
with  all  the  castles  and  brackets  to  the  One  and  a  Half 
Hospital  Fair.  Then  he  said : 

"  I  am  now  ready  to  start  and  become  No.  1  in  your 
collection  of  giants." 

They  started  down  the  road  at  a  brisk  rate,  but  be- 
fore they  had  gone  far  Opoponax  the  Half  remarked, 

"  I  am  not  used  to  these  new  legs  yet ;  they  are 
hardly  broken  in,  and  that  is  probably  what  tires  me 
so.  I  fear  we  shall  not  be  able  to  reach  the  Palace 
to-night." 

Thereupon  the  Giant  took  Opoponax  the  Half  on  his 
back  and  a  jester  under  each  arm,  and  commenced 
running.  They  told  him  the  road,  and  he  never  stopped 
until  he  deposited  his  burden  on  the  Palace  steps.  All 
the  people  ran  out  in  great  alarm  to  learn  what  had 
happened. 

"  Where  is  the  King  ?"  they  shouted. 

"  I'm  half  of  him,"  replied  the  Farmer's  Head. 

"  Where's  the  other  half,  and  where's  the  crown  ?" 
they  demanded. 

The  First  Jester  then  explained  all,  and  was  told 
that  he  ought  to  lose  his  head,  too. 

"  But  I  can't,"  replied  the  First  Jester, "  because  I 
am  the  friend  of  Opoponax  the  Half." 

"  Oh,  stop  your  noise,"  exclaimed  Opoponax  the 
Half  to  a  haughty  minister  in  a  fluted  collar,  "  and  get 
out  to  the  barn,  and  see  to  the  milking,  and  feed  the 
pigs!" 

u  He  has  an  agricultural  head  and  mind,"  explained 
the  First  Jester, "  and  you  must  all  learn  to  like  his 
bucolic  phrase  and  simile." 

Seeing  a  tall,  slender  page,  with  wavy  flaxen  hair, 


- 


"THEREUPON    THE    GIANT     TOOK     OPOPONAX    THE   HALF    ON    HIS   BACK 
AND    A    JESTER    UNDER    EACH    ARM,   AND    COMMENCED    RUNNING." 

Opoponax  the  Half  addressed  him  as  "  Shears,"  and 
remarked  that  he  would  be  a  first-rate  thing  to  grow 
lima  beans  on.  His  off-hand  remarks  were  very  dis- 
tasteful to  every  one.  He  did  not  ingratiate  himself 
to  any  extent  in  the  estimation  of  another  dignitary 


OPOPONAX    %  315 

when  he  asked  him  why  he  didn't  wear  overalls,  and 
not  be  going  around  on  week-days  in  his  Sunday 
clothes.  The  lounges  were  so  soft  and  comfortable 
that  he  was  afraid  to  recline  on  them  for  fear  he  might 
fall  asleep  and  never  wake. 

But  at  table  that  night  he  kept  every  one  in  a  roar. 
He  wanted  nothing  but  johnny-cake  and  cookies  and 
things  of  that  sort,  and  he  ate  about  twice  as  much  as 
did  the  Giant.  After  the  meal  had  been  cleared  away, 
he  commenced  reading  jokes  out  of  an  old  almanac 
and  roaring  with  laughter.  The  courtiers  had  never 
before  seen  anything  like  it,  and  they  would  all  have 
left  at  once  had  they  thought  they  could  do  so  with- 
out arousing  the  wrath  of  Opoponax  the  Half. 

"  At  the  farm,"  he  said,  "  I  heard  the  King,  before 
we  changed  heads,  say  he  was  going  to  make  a  great 
collection  of  circus  posters ;  and  it  was  from  him  that 
I  got  the  idea  of  doing  the  same  thing.  But  since 
then,  as  I  remarked  in  the  cave  of  my  dear  Nimble- 
shanks,  I  have  determined  to  collect  giants.  Any  one 
who  brings  me  a  giant  shall  have  a  ticket  for  the  next 
circus,  if  it's  right  in  the  middle  of  the  haying  season." 

Many  of  them  pretended  to  be  overcome  by  the 
generosity  of  this  offer,  and  for  the  sake  of  pleasing 
Opoponax  the  Half  promised  to  go  forth  on  a  giant 
hunt  and  bring  in  as  many  specimens  as  possible. 

He  retired  for  the  night  at  eight  o'clock  and  was 
awake  at  four,  at  which  hour  he  absent-mindedly  arose 
and  went  out  to  look  after  the  stock.  It  seemed 
strange  to  him  that  there  was  no  stable  about  the 
place ;  and  when  he  went  back  to  the  palace,  and 
found  no  one  stirring,  he  started  the  morning  fire  and 
put  on  a  kettle  of  water. 

"  I  tell  you,"  he  said  to  himself,  "this  king  business 


316  OPOPONAX    % 

astonishes  me.  It's  the  funniest  kind  of  work  I  ever 
had.  The  only  thing  I  really  like  about  it  is  the 
chance  it  gives  me  to  collect  giants.  I  think  the  old 
farm  would  suit  me  better  if  I  could  only  indulge  my 
weakness  for  giants  there." 

Having  got  the  kettle  on  he  went  about  the  palace 
grumbling  because  his  breakfast  was  not  ready.  He 
had  an  appetite  that  was  simply  agricultural  in  its  in- 
tensity, and  he  sighed  for  buckwheat  cakes  and  pie. 
"  I  don't  suppose  they  have  breakfast  here  much  be- 
fore dinner,  so  I  had  better  go  down  and  hunt  up 
some  cake." 

Accordingly  he  went  rummaging  about  the  pantry 
shelves.  A  venison  pasty  rewarded  his  search,  and 
this  he  took  out  under  a  tree,  where  he  sat  down  and 
ate  it  in  peace.  The  birds  sang  in  the  branches  over- 
head, and  this  made  him  feel  a  little  bit  more  at  home. 
He  sat  there  for  an  hour  or  so  meditating  on  the 
queerness  of  his  change,  as  if  in  a  dream,  when  he 
heard  some  one  shout : 

"  The  King's  lost !  the  King's  lost !" 

"  No  he  isn't !"  shouted  the  King  in  reply,  "  he  never 
knew  his  whereabouts  better." 

"  But  what  are  you  doing  here  ?"  asked  the  courtier. 

"  Just  looking  around  a  little  after  breakfast,  that's 
all.  What  time  do  you  feed  the  chickens  here  ?"• 

"  We  don't  have  chickens  !"  said  the  courtier.. 

"  Well,  this  is  a  funny  sort  of  life  anyhow,  and  I 
feel  it  in  my  bones  as  plain  as  ague  that  I  never  was 
cut  out  to  be  a  king.  I  am  afraid  that  I  must  ask 
some  of  you  to  give  me  a  few  easy  lessons,  or  else  I 
must  send  for  the  King's  Head  to  advise  me  and  help 
me  run  the  thing.  Two  heads  would  be  better  than 
one,  eh  ?" 


OPOPONAX    %  317 

"  It  would,"  replied  the  courtier,  "  and  probably  the 
King's  Head  would  like  to  have  you  at  this  very  mo- 
ment to  tell  him  the  proper  language  to  use  when  you 
want  to  coax  a  calf  within  Eeach." 

"  All  you  have  to  say  is  '  cuff,  cuff,  cuff  !'  and  up 
walks  the  calf !" 

"  But  the  King's  Head  is  not  aware  of  that,"  replied 
the  courtier,  who  continued, "  Do  you  know  the  Giant 
is  up  and  out  ?" 

"  No  ;  where  is  he,  No.  1,  the  Bracket-maker?" 

u  In  the  garden  hard  by." 

Without  offering  a  word  of  thanks  for  the  informa- 
tion or  apology  for  his  abrupt  departure,  Opoponax  the 
Half  stood  up  and  walked  into  the  garden,  where  he 
saw  No.  1,  the  Bracket-maker,  sitting  under  a  mulberry- 
tree  in  a  sort  of  pensive  reverie.  The  King  stood  be- 
hind him  where  he  could  not  be  seen,  and  as  he  did  so 
the  Giant  vented  his  joy  in  the  following  merry  song : 

THE  CHILDREN. 
"I'm  very  fond  of  children  small, 

And  they  are  fond  of  me ; 
I  love  to  have  them  climb  and  fall 

In  laughter  at  my  knee  ; 
And  when  in  silken  snood  or  poke 

I  hear  their  prattle  sweet, 
I  feel  just  like  the  giant  oak 
With  flowers  at  its  feet. 

"  Oh,  once  I  was  a  happy  child, 

A  perfect  little  lamb; 
My  mother  fondly  on  me  smiled, 

And  gave  me  bread  and  jam ; 
She  never  made  me  eat  the  crust, 

So  good  and  kind  was  she, 
And  I  treat  other  children  just 

The  way  she  treated  me. 


318  OPOPONAX    K 

"1  love  the  children's  gentle  smile 

When  in  the  sun  they  troop ; 
I  love  to  skip  the  rope  a  while 

With  them,  and  roll  the  hoop ; 
I  love  to  hand  them  ginger  -  cake 

Beneath  their  parasols, 
And  with  my  shining  scissors  make 

Them  pretty  paper  dolls. 

"To  me  with  visions  rosy-ripe 

Full  often  they  repair, 
And  with  a  little  penny  pipe 

Blow  bubbles  in  the  air 
Until  we  quite  exhaust  the  soap 

That  generates  the  suds — 
The  children  are  our  only  hope, 

The  precious  little  buds." 

"You  are  well  worthy  of  being  No.  1,  Sir  Bracket- 
maker,  when  you  can  sing  such  a  song  as  that.  I 
like  you  better  than  any  other  of  these  people  about 
here,  and  I  am  going  to  tell  them  to  bring  in  no 
more  giants.  I  shall  consider  you  my  collection." 

The  Giant,  in  bowing,  struck  his  head  against  the 
limb  of  a  tree. 

"  You  have  a  common  every -day  manner  about  you 
that  I  like,  and  if  you  are  fond  of  children  you  must 
be  all  right." 

The  Giant  blushed. 

"  I  just  wish  we  were  back  on  the  old  farm  together. 
I  am  tired  of  this  smiling  on  everything  I  don't  believe 
in  with  my  honest  agricultural  face,  and  stalking 
around  on  these  attenuated  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  legs." 

"  Your  language  at  times  shows  learning  not  to  be 
looked  for  in  a  farmer.  I  say  this  to  compliment,  not 
to  patronize  you.  Where  did  you  acquire  this  knowl- 
edge ?" 


*  ! 


OPOPONAX    %  321 

"  Mostly  from  the  Fireside  Cyclopcedia.  An  agent 
came  around  and  offered  it  in  fifty  monthly  parts  at  a 
very  low  price.  The  only  way  I  could  get  rid  of  him 
was  to  take  it.  I  also  gained  a  respectable  vocabulary 
from  studying  the  circus  poster,  to  say  nothing  of  a 
mastery  of  that  department  of  natural  history  that 
does  with  rare  wild  circus  animals.  I  learned  the  rest 
by  observing  my  fellow-man.  I  wonder  what  salary 
I  am  to  be  allowed  for  kinging  this  country  ?" 

"I  couldn't  tell,"  replied  the  Giant.  "Let's  talk 
more  about  the  circus." 

"  After  this  man  in  the  crimson  cloak  has  departed, 
He  is  probably  coming  to  ask  me  to  go  to  the  black- 
smith's to  be  measured  for  a  crown." 

"  But  haven't  you  one  already  ?"  asked  the  Giant. 

"  No,"  replied  Opoponax  the  Half,  "  I  have  not.  I 
left  the  crown  with  the  King's  Head  to  keep  it 
awake  all  night.  But  what  say  you  if  we  slip  be- 
hind yon  syringa,  and  avoid  this  Knight  of  the  Sus- 
pender ?" 

They  stepped  behind  the  syringa,  and  the  Knight  of 
the  Suspender  passed.  "  Have  you  any  little  brothers 
and  sisters  ?"  asked  Opoponax  the  Half. 

The  Giant  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  and  replied : 

"  I  am  an  only  child.  Papa  and  mamma  have  been 
dead  this  many  a  year." 

"Poor  fellow,  you  shall  have  a  dear,  constant  friend 
in  me.  Now  notice  the  royal  dignity  with  which  I 
am  going  to  summon  this  man." 

Then  he  shouted, 

"What,  ho,  without  there,  Sir  Knight  of  the  Sus- 
pender, come  hither !" 

The  man  came  up  very  humbly. 

"Don't  scrape  the  ground  that  way  like  a  Shanghai 
21 


322  OPOPONAX  % 

rooster,  but  just  go  and  have  that  giant  order  counter- 
manded. Bracket-maker  No.  1  is  my  only  giant !" 

The  knight  departed,  and  Opoponax  the  Half  said : 

"  I  don't  like  to  talk  of  the  circus  too  much ;  it 
wakes  pleasant  memories  that  I  would  forget,  because 
a  circus  winters  on  my  old  farm  every  year.  Do  you 
think  there  is  any  way  by  which  we  could  return  to 
it?" 

"  I  don't  know ;  but  if  we  could  I  would  work  for 
you  all  my  life.  You  could  manage  the  farm,  and  I 
would  open  a  little  kindergarten." 

Just  then  the  air  was  agitated  by  the  brazen  blare  of 
a  trumpet,  and  Opoponax  the  Half  said : 

"  We  will  not  be  without  hope.  But  let's  go  in ; 
there  goes  the  dinner-horn." 


IV 

OPOPONAX  THE  HALF  was  very  much  provoked  when 
he  learned  that  the  trumpet  he  had  heard  was  not  the 
dinner -horn,  but  a  signal  for  all  hands  to  assemble 
for  the  giant  hunt.  Fanning  himself  with  his  straw 
hat,  he  said : 

"  There  shall  be  no  giant  hunt.  Nimbleshanks,  other- 
wise Bracket-maker  No.  1,  is  to  be  my  only  giant.  But 
instead,  now  that  you  are  all  here,  we  will  make  a  circus 
ring  out  in  the  garden,  and  spend  the  afternoon  in  ra- 
tional fun.  Procure  a  horse  and  plough!" 

A  horse  and  plough  were  brought,  and  Opoponax 
the  Half  surprised  them  all  by  the  agility  with  which 
he  turned  up  the  ring. 

"  Get  ap  there  !"  he  shouted  as  he  applied  the  whip, 
and  away  the  horse  sped  about  the  circle  in  the  liveli- 
est manner.  The  people  about  the  palace  were  greatly 
shocked  at  this  undignified  proceeding,  but  pretended 
they  thought  it  rare  sport. 

When  the  ring  had  been  ploughed  the  soft  earth 
was  piled  into  the  circle,  and  the  whole  surface  raked 
smooth,  Opoponax  the  Half  meanwhile  laughing  with 
delight.  The  giant,  looking  on  as  happy  as  a  school- 
boy, said  : 

"  If  we  only  had  the  jig-saw  sawdust  accumulated  in 
my  cave,  it  would  be  splendid  for  the  ring." 

"  I  never  thought  of  the  sawdust.     Collect  all  the 


324  OPOPONAX  % 

sawbucks  in  the  neighborhood,  and  let  the  knights 
and  ministers  saw  in  the  interest  of  the  circus  ring 
and  a  good  appetite." 

The  retinue  of  Opoponax  the  Half  flew  to  obey  the 
royal  command,  and  half  an  hour  later  the  garden  was 
full  of  sawbucks  and  saws,  and  every  one  was  sawing 
away  for  dear  life. 

"  I  would  suggest,"  said  Opoponax  the  Half  to  the 
Custodian  of  the  Latchkeys,  who  was  bobbing  up  and 
down  like  a  buoy  on  rough  water,  "that  you  remove 
your  velvet  cloak  and  Valenciennes  collar  while  you 
saw.  I  don't  feel  that  I  can  afford  to  allow  you  to  wear 
such  extravagant  raiment.  When  I  was  a  chore-boy  I 
was  taught  to  be  economical,  and  I  have  never  been 
able  to  get  over  it." 

"  It  is  very  hard  work,"  replied  the  Custodian  of  the 
Latchkeys,  blowing  for  breath  while  he  hung  his  purple 
cloak  on  a  Japan  quince. 

"  It  is  hard  work  that  makes  us  happy,"  replied 
Opoponax  the  Half.  "  All  the  happiness  we  have  is 
the  result  of  hard  work.  I  have  known  country  people 
to  pick  blackberries  for  weeks,  when  there  was  scarce- 
ly a  blackberry  to  be  found,  in  order  to  have  sufficient 
money  to  purchase  a  ticket  for  the  forthcoming  circus. 
They  were  happy  in  their  labor,  because  it  was  gilded 
by  a  pleasant  anticipation  that  made  it  light.  And  the 
circus  was  the  reward.  While  you  are  sawing  this 
wood  your  heart  should  be  in  our  circus  ring.  How 
would  you  like  to  saw  wood  all  your  life  for  fifty  cents 
per  day  ?" 

"  Frankly,  death  would  be  sweeter,"  replied  the  Cus- 
todian of  the  Latchkeys. 

"  If  yon  were  to  do  it  for,  say,  a  year,  you  would  learn 
to  appreciate  the  luxury  of  your  present  position.  A 


OPOPONAX  }4  327 

position  to  be  enjoyed  should  be  appreciated  at  its  true 
value,  and,  as  I  notice  every  one  about  Axrainster  Pal- 
ace appears  to  be  grumbling  and  discontented,  I  am 
going  to  do  them  all  a  kindness  in  teaching  them — 
through  experience — that  they  are  really  very  well  off. 
Now  don't  stand  there  looking  at  me  to  escape  work ; 
pitch  right  in  and  get  your  second  wind." 

The  Custodian  of  the  Latchkeys  once  more  set  to 
work,  and  while  he  puffed  and  blew  as  he  gyrated  upon 
an  oak  knot,  Opoponax  the  Half  told  them  all  what  he 
had  just  said  to  him  of  the  Latchkeys,  and  continued : 

"  I  am  going  to  have  a  circus  here  every  other  day, 
and  am  going  to  introduce  an  industrial  feature.  Every 
dignitary  has  got  to  saw  and  split  wood,  and  go  through 
calisthenic  exercises  with  pails  of  coal  and  water  in- 
stead of  dumb-bells.  I  am  going  to  have  you  groom 
horses  in  the  ring,  and  milk  cows  that  won't  stand  still. 
I  am  going  to  have  you  do  every  kind  of  disagreeable 
work  I  can  think  of  for  quite  a  while  —  I  won't  say 
how  long — and  allow  you  only  the  commonest  food, 
and  beds  hard  enough  to  give  you  rheumatism." 

The  ministers  were  completely  undone  when  they 
heard  this,  and  it  is  quite  likely  they  would  all  have 
resigned  their  positions  had  they  dared. 

When  they  had  wheeled  all  the  sawdust  into  the 
ring,  and  everything  was  ready,  he  ordered  them  to 
race  around  it,  each  one  carrying  a  heavy  jagged  stone. 
Some  dropped,  and  others  fell  over  them.  Then  he 
arranged  two  ladders  in  triangular  fashion,  and  com- 
pelled them,  each  with  an  armful  of  bed-slats,  to  run 
up  one  side  and  down  the  other  in  Indian  file.  It 
was  very  amusing  to  see  the  slats  slip  this  way  and 
that. 

"That  is  enough  for  to-day,"  said  Opoponax  the  Half. 


328  OPOPONAX  % 

"Now  you  are  to  have  a  dinner  of  cold  corned  beef 
and  dry  bread  so  hard  that  you  will  do  your  teeth  a 
kindness  by  resorting  to  nut -crackers.  And  then  to 
bed  on  a  couch  of  rippling  lumps,  and  you  will  be  on 
the  highroad  to  happiness." 

In  a  few  hours  th«(y  were  all  in  bed,  and  then  Opo- 
ponax  the  Half  said  to  the  Giant : 

"  When  I  left  the  farm  I  did  not  forget  to  bring 
along  a  goodly  supply  of  circus  posters,  and  with  these 
I  am  going  to  decorate  the  walls  of  my  room,  that  they 
may  be  the  first  thing  to  greet  my  gaze  when  I  wake 
in  the  morning.  As  you  have  a  long  reach  you  can 
make  a  step-ladder  superfluous." 

Nimbleshanks  was  only  too  glad  to  be  of  service, 
and  they  immediately  repaired  to  the  luxurious  sleep- 
ing apartment. 

"  We  must  arange  them  artistically,"  said  the  King. 
"  We  must  put  the  wild  quadrupeds  together  on  this 
wall,  the  fishes  on  this  side,  the  horses  over  there,  and 
human  beings  here,  taking  great  pains  to  keep  the  in- 
habitants 'of  each  country  together." 

"  You  have  now  filled  the  four  walls.  How  about  the 
birds  ?" 

"They  can  go  on  the  ceiling  as  if  flying,"  replied 
the  King. 

"  These  rooms  are  very  small,"  said  the  Giant,  turn- 
ing the  subject  when  a  thought  of  his  own  comfort 
occurred  to  him,  "  and  I  suppose,  as  I  have  been  in 
the  habit  of  living  in  a  cave,  you  intend  to  relegate 
me  to  the  cellar." 

"  Not  at  all,  not  at  all !"  replied  Opoponax  the  Half, 
laughing  louder  than  he  had  before  laughed  since  be- 
coming a  king.  "  If  it  comes  to  the  worst,  we  can  ac- 
commodate your  length  by  giving  you  the  hall  up- 


OPOPONAX  %  329 

stairs.  That  would  be  a  sort  of  tall  bedroom,  wouldn't 
it?" 

The  Giant,  never  having  lived  in  the  city,  did  not 
enjoy  this  joke  to  any  extent,  but  laughed  out  of 
compliment,  and  to  this  day  Opoponax  the  Half 
doubtless  thinks  his  merry  jest  was  taken  at  its  face 
value. 

"  We  had  better  put  this  papering  work  off  till  to- 
morrow," said  Opoponax  the  Half. 

"  I  am  not  in  the  least  fatigued,  if  you  are  not," 
replied  the  Giant. 

"  But  I  am,"  said  Opoponax  the  Half. 

"  Then  I  am,  too,"  replied  the  Giant. 

"  But  it  is  not  because  of  my  fatigue  that  I  post- 
pone the  work,"  said  Opoponax  the  Half.  "  I  want  to 
do  it  in  the  daylight  for  the  sake  of  harmony  and 
effect  in  color.  I  am  not  an  artist  in  any  sense,  but 
in  the  matter  of  color  I  have  a  keen  appreciation  of 
circus  values." 

In  the  morning  Opoponax  the  Half  and  the  Giant 
were  down  bright  and  early,  but  the  rest  slept  until 
eleven.  When  they  appeared  they  said  they  had  never 
rested  so  comfortably  before,  as  they  slumbered  from 
the  time  they  touched  the  pillows. 

"  The  rosy  blessing  of  sleep,"  said  Opoponax  the 
Half,  "  was  all  owing  to  the  work  you  did  yesterday. 
You  slept  better  on  lumpy  beds  than  formerly  on 
couches  of  softest  down.  It  should  satisfy  you  that 
my  theory  is  sound,  and  that  by  forcing  you  to  follow 
it  I  may  yet  make  you  happy.  It  is  no  pleasure,  I  can 
assure  you,  to  see  you  suffer  ;  but  I  know  that  through 
suffering  more  is  learned  than  through  opulent  idleness. 
You  see  yon  stone-wall  ?" 

"  Yes,"  they  all  replied. 


330  OPOPONAX  X 

"  Pitch  right  in,  and  carry  it  over  here,  and  reset  it 
in  an  outer  side  circle  about  the  ring." 

They  went  at  their  work  reluctantly,  because  many 
of  them  were  so  stiff  and  sore  that  they  were  walking 
around  bent  half-way  over,  being  unable  to  get  out  of 
the  positions  in  which  they  slept.  While  they  were 
plodding  away,  Opoponax  the  Half  said : 

"  How  would  you  like  to  be  at  your  ordinary  duties 
now  ?" 

When  they  heard  these  balmy  words  they  dropped 
the  stones  they  were  carrying,  ran  up  to  Opoponax  the 
Half,  and  replied,  in  chorus : 

"What  a  boon  it  would  be,  what  a  boon  it  would  be, 
what  a  boon — " 

"  It  will  be  a  thousand-fold  greater  boon,"  broke  in 
Opoponax  the  Half,  "after  1  have  worked  you  this 
way  about  a  month  or  so  longer.  Now  go  at  the  stone 
wall  again,  and  hurry  up,  that  you  may  get  at  the  split- 
ting of  the  winter's  firewood  before  the  curfew." 

"What  say  you,  Sir  Bracket-maker  No.  1,  if  we  hie 
us  to  the  Palace,  and  proceed  with  our  work  of  circus- 
postering  my  room  ?" 

The  Giant  thought  it  would  be  a  splendid  idea,  as 
his  heart  was  in  it.  So  Opoponax  the  Half  cautioned 
his  retinue  not  to  praise  in  their  work  a  minute  be- 
fore the  dinner-hour,  and  then  went  to  the  royal  kitch- 
en and  made  a  pailful  of  paste  of  flour  and  water, 
after  which  he  proceeded  to  his  sleeping  apartment 
with  the  Giant.  The  latter  was  overcome  with  joy 
when  he  saw  the  beautiful  posters.  He  stood  in  a 
sort  of  helpless  reverie,  and  went  into  raptures  over 
the  vivid  colors. 

"  Should  I  ever  have  to  start  a  kindergarten  to  ren- 
der you  assistance,  I  intend  to  paper  it  just  in  this 


OPOPONAX    %  331 

way,  that  the  children  may  be  amused  and  instructed 
at  the  same  time.  They  could  thus  be  taught  color 
values,  natural  history,  and,  by  alluding  to  the  coun- 
tries from  which  the  animals  come,  a  geographical 
feature  might  be  worked  in.  Besides,  they  would  be 
splendid  subjects  for  the  drawing-class." 

"  Beautiful,  beautiful !"  exclaimed  Opoponax  the 
Half,  clapping  his  hands  and  laughing.  "  I  am  glad 
that  there  is  at  least  one  in  this  cold  world  that  is  in 
sympathy  with  me  in  my  mad  glad  circus  love.  But 
how  shall  we  arrange  them  ?" 

The  Giant  looked  the  posters  over  carefully,  and 
having  concluded  the  order  in  which  they  should  be 
arranged,  sang  as  in  a  dream,  while  he  pointed  with 
his  forefinger : 

"  The  Bengal  tiger  here, 

The  ostrich  over  there, 
And  by  the  cats  in  soldier  hats 

The  elk  with  shaggy  hair. 
We'll  put  the  spouting  whale, 

That  gives  the  whaler  combat, 
Beside  the  ape  without  a  tail, 

Just  underneath  the  wombat. 

The  pard  with  frenzied  eye 

And  angry  tail  erect, 
Above  yon  chair,  and  near  the  bear, 

Will  make  a  fine  effect. 
We'll  place  this  hairless  sheep 

That  eats  the  ruta-baga, 
Below  the  sloth  so  sound  asleep 

To  flank  the  lively  quagga. 

"  Above,  the  albatross 

The  wild-eyed  Hottentot 
Must  watch  the  gnu  and  kangaroo 
And  lazy  hippopot. 


332  OPOPONAX  % 

The  scarlet  parrot  must 

Be  near  the  beryl  monkey, 
And  here  the  clown  that  in  the  dust 

Commingles  with  the  donkey." 

"I  like  the  arrangement  very  much,"  said  Opopo- 
nax  the  Half,  "  and  I  most  cheerfully  adopt  it." 

They  then  set  to  work,  and  in  an  hour's  time  had 
the  room  most  gorgeously  decorated.  And  they  were 
both  so  beside  themselves  with  joy  that  they  fairly 
danced. 

"  I  am  so  happy  that  I  almost  forget  I  am  a  king !" 
exclaimed  Opoponax  the  Half.  "  But  let's  to  the  gar- 
den and  see  how  the  lordly  vassals  are  progressing." 

He  was  so  pleased  on  observing  the  amount  of  labor 
they  had  performed  that  he  allowed  them  half  an  hour 
to  play  after  dinner,  and  ordered  an  itinerant  candy 
woman  to  regale  each  and  every  one  with  ten  cents' 
worth  of  marshmallow  drops  at  the  expense  of  the 
Government. 

And  so  the  days  passed  softly  and  merrily  on  until 
a  month  had  expired,  and  all  the  ministers,  secretaries, 
and  custodians  of  this  thing  or  that  were  worked  into 
skeletons,  and  were  altogether  too  small  for  their  cloth- 
ing. Then  Opoponax  the  Half  told  them  that  if  they 
thought  they  had  been  sufficiently  educated  by  toil  to 
appreciate  prosperity  and  ease  they  might  resume  their 
exalted  positions  of  dignity  and  trust.  To  say  they 
were  jubilant  would  not  he  doing  their  feelings  justice. 
They  scampered  about  like  so  many  children  on  the 
last  day  of  school.  And  their  duties,  they  said,  were 
simply  fun.  They  were  willing  to  do  night-work  with- 
out extra  pay  or  supper-money.  And  what  is  more, 
they  were  never  known  to  grumble  again,  but  were 
always  cheerful,  and  in  the  best  of  spirits. 


OPOPONAX  %  335 

Several  weeks  later,  when  they  were  all  out  in  the 
garden  playing  circus,  some  one  shouted, 

u  Here  comes  an  old  farmer  with  a  crowned  king's 
head,  and  accompanied  by  an  ancient  dame." 

"  This  is  Timo — half  of  Timothy  Hay,"  said  Mrs. 
Hay,  who  was  delighted  unto  tears  at  once  more  see- 
ing the  face  of  her  son.  "  I  am  very  tired,  and  would 
like  a  cup  of  tea." 

"  Bring  the  tea  right  out  here,"  said  Opoponax  the 
Half,  who  was  so  glad  to  see  his  mother  that  he  didn't 
know  what  to  do — "  bring  the  tea  right  out  here,  and 
bring  plenty  of  it !" 

While  Mrs.  Hay  was  rapturously  sipping  the  tea, 
Opoponax  the  Half  sat  beside  Timo,  and  asked  : 

"  How  are  things  at  the  farm  ?  How  is  old  Brindle, 
and  Musta,  the  Arabian  steed  presented  me  by  the  cir- 
cus?" 

"  Everything  is  all  wrong,"  replied  Timo.  "  I  broke 
the  tongs  pulling  up  turnips  with  them,  and,  to  make 
a  long  story  short,  the  place  is  a  wreck.  The  sheriff 
is  expected  in  two  weeks,  and  I  have  come  with  your 
mother  for  pecuniary  assistance.  How  do  you  like 
being  a  king?" 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Opoponax  the  Half.  "  I  am  as 
much  undone  as  you  are.  In  fact,  I  have  to  play  cir- 
cus to  forget  my  sorrow." 

While  they  consoled  each  other  with  many  a  sad 
"  alas,"  the  Custodian  of  the  Latchkeys  proposed  that 
Opoponax  the  Half  and  Timo  roll  around  the  ring  a 
few  times  to  show  them  how  they  came  to  change 
heads.  Every  one  shouted  for  them  to  begin,  and 
neither  was  in  a  mood  to  refuse  so  slight  a  request. 
So  they  got  the  proper  grip,  and  went  around  like  a 
wheel,  increasing  their  speed  until,  as  on  a  former 


336  OPOPONAX  % 

occasion,  no  one  could  tell  just  where  Opoponax  the 
Half  began  and  Timo  terminated. 

When  they  arose  they  had  again  changed  heads, 
and  before  the  principals  or  the  onlookers  could  ex- 
press their  surprise,  the  Giant  sang, 

"  What  funny  things  are  these 
That  on  our  visions  burst? 
He's  Timothy  H;iy,  and  he's 
Opoponax  the  First." 

And  so  it  was. 

"  All  is  well,"  said  Timothy  Hay,  "  for  both  of  us 
are  happier.  I  am  the  light-hearted  agriculturist  of 
yore,  and  he  is  again  the  merry  monarch." 

There  was  great  rejoicing  on  all  sides,  and  after  the 
excitement  subsided,  Opoponax  the  First  said : 

"  May  I  come  to  visit  you  next  winter,  when  the 
circus  arrives  ?" 

"  Indeed,  you  may,"  replied  Timothy  Hay  ;  "  but  if 
you  have  wrecked  the  farm,  you  should  redeem  it  for 
me,  that  we  may  enjoy  the  circus  together." 

"  It  shall  be  done  instanter,"  said  the  King. 

He  thereupon  gave  Timothy  Hay  a  purse  contain- 
ing more  gold  than  he  had  come  to  ask  for  himself. 

"  I  must  away,  to  be  home  in  time  for  the  milking," 
said  Timothy^  "  We  have  both  learned  one  grand 
lesson,  and  that  is  that  we  can  only  shine  in  the  sphere 
of  life  intended  for  us,  be  it  great  or  humble ;  but  I 
miss  the  end  from  one  of  my  fingers !" 

"  I  lost  that  in  the  hay-cutter,"  said  Opoponax  the 
First,  "  and  wish  to  humbly  apologize  for  my  careless- 
ness." 

"  Don't  mention  it,"  replied  Timothy.  "  Accidents 
cannot  be  avoided,  but  your  anatomy  is  complete. 
Come,  Sir  Bracket-maker,  No.  1,  we  must  away." 


OPOPONAX  %  339 

They  bade  Opoponax  the  First  and  his  retinue  an 
affectionate  farewell,  and  started  on  their  journey. 

When  at  the  gate,  Opoponax  shouted, 

"  Don't  forget  to  let  me  know  when  the  circus  ar- 
rives for  the  winter !" 

Timothy  Hay  promised,  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  to 
lot  him  know,  and  then  the  Giant  took  Mrs.  Hay  on 
one  arm,  and  Timothy  on  the  other,  to  gain  time,  and 
started  for  the  farm  on  a  trot.  As  he  jogged  along 
,  he  burst  into  song,  probably  to  mark  time,  and  this  is 
what  he  sang : 

"  We'll  lead  a  happy  life, 

We'll  ever  be  together, 
Although  it  blow,  or  madly  snow, 

Or  sunny  be  the  weather. 
Beneath  one  humble  roof 

We'll  know  a  cheery  shelter, 
And  from  our  door  drive  care  before 

Our  boot-toe  helter-skelter. 

"Our  lives  will  be  as  light 

As  morning's  dewy  flowers, 
And  Happiness  will  smiling  bless 

The  never-lagging  hours. 
At  breakfast,  when  the  sun's 

The  far  east's  rosy  tinger, 
We'll  fondly  sigh  o'er  apple-pie, 

And  cake  composed  of  ginger. 

"  We'll  sing  our  daily  song : 

'Begone,  dark  clouds,  to  Yeddo!' 
And  watch  the  cows  demurely  browse 

Within  the  shining  meadow. 
Light-hearted  will  we  be 

As  mated  wren  or  marten, 
And  if  for  gold  our  days  grow  cold 

I'll  start  a  kindergarten." 


340 


OPOPONAX 


It  only  remains  to  be  said,  in  conclusion,  that,  al- 
though Opoponax  the  Fjrst  reigned  long  and  well,  and 
was  an  ideally  happy  king,  he  never  learned  to  laugh. 


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